


all the what ifs i never said

by rosegardenlake



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Childhood Friends, Depression, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Death, Mentions of self-harm, Modern Setting, Mutual Pining, SHEITH - Freeform, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-01 14:34:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 46,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13296921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosegardenlake/pseuds/rosegardenlake
Summary: Keith is nine when he first notices Shiro.Shiro is gentle and quiet, always keeping to himself.  Keith is rough and loud, running wherever his feet will take him, screaming on the top of his lungs into the wind.But despite that, they're a constant throughout each other's lives...if only that could be enough.As they grow, Keith just wants them both to be happy, but instead, he's falling apart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this as some form of catharsis, but I think it just made everything worse, haha.  
> Anyway, please enjoy.  
> Thank you soooo much to Inatrice and GrimHeaperr for beta-ing!!

The first time Keith remembers seeing Shiro is during his fifth grade Christmas party.  He’s nine.  He’s just a kid, happy as can be, the whole world at his feet.

There’s candy, so how could he be anything but happy?  Everyone’s brought some in - cookies, brownies, candy canes - and Keith has a few of each, his plate stacked high.  He sits at his table and eats happily, swinging his band-aid clad legs and laughing at his best friend, Lance.  They were just taught how to make paper cranes and Lance’s looks more like a UFO than an animal.  

“Yours is perfect, _of course_ ,” Lance curses, throwing his fist down into Keith’s crane hard, squashing it flat.

“Hey,” Keith yells around a mouthful of cookies.  He sharply grabs the last of Lance’s paper from underneath his nose and starts crafting another with careful precise movements.  He sticks his tongue out at Lance.  “I’m going to make _two_ more just for that.”

“Not if I can get to them first!”  Lance crows loudly, leaning over Keith to flatten all of his cranes.  

Keith roars and they fight, arms, legs, and paper cranes flying everywhere.  

The teacher, who just wanted one day off from this sort of thing, sighs from his desk, looking over his book.  “Lance.  Keith.  Knock it off.”

“He started it,” Keith grumbles, giving Lance one last hard push, making him fall off his chair and to the ground with a loud thump.

The teacher raises his eyebrows in warning, but Lance is defeated, crawling back onto his chair with a small groan.

His toothy grin is shit-eating though.  “Got all your cranes,” Lance chuckles menacingly.

Keith’s responding glare is thunderous.  

“Keith,” a small voice says from the chalkboard.

He knows of him - Shiro, the boy with the fitted collared shirts beneath sweater vests and perfect grades.  When he had transferred over from Japan, the school had messed up his details and put him in the wrong grade, so he’s older than everyone else and taller by a lot.  They don't really talk and Keith doesn’t mind either way.  

He is gentle and quiet, always keeping to himself.  Keith is rough and loud, running wherever his feet will take him, screaming on the top of his lungs into the wind.  It is just how it is.

But Shiro is sending his gentle smile over at Keith, gesturing toward the board where he has drawn with careful lines a paper crane.  When he sees he has Keith’s attention, he angles himself toward the drawing again and adds on a Santa hat.  “Your crane,” he smiles, twisting his hands in front of himself shyly.  “Do you like it?”

“You can draw?”  Keith says, stars in his eyes as he leans forward.  “Cool!”

“Cranes!”  Lance yells, tossing himself out of his seat and trying to reach for the drawing with his hand to erase it all.  

Shiro is too tall.  Lance can’t reach it even if he jumps.

Keith laughs deeply, like a villain.  He gets out of his seat, sticks out his tongue at Lance, and goes to stand beside Shiro.  

Shiro smiles down at him, standing a bit taller, anxious glow to his face.

“Teach me for a candy cane?”  Keith asks, holding one out to Shiro.

Shiro takes the candy cane from Keith carefully with wide eyes, staring at it like he’s never seen such a prize before.  He clutches it to his chest and nods eagerly, eyes brightening in excitement.  “Thank you!”

Keith grins so widely the happiness swallows his face whole.  He grabs a piece of chalk and holds it to the board at the ready.

They draw together for the rest of the class, Keith’s jittery lines next to Shiro’s smooth practiced ones.  

It’s easy to be friends in elementary.  A smile.  A cool drawing.  That’s all it takes and then they’re in.  

Keith starts noticing Shiro - in the hallways, across the table during lunch, paying diligent attention in class.  Shiro’s always paying attention, to everyone and everything, quietly though.  Shyly.  Arms brought in close to his sides and twiddling his thumbs more often than not.

They start making eye contact and they laugh nearly every time.

 

At home, Keith likes to ride his bike around the court and down the hill at full speed, ducking out of the way of bugs and crowing all the way down.  He’s loud.  He’s little.  He doesn’t care who hears.

“Keith!”  His mother opens the window and sticks her head outside.  “Stop yelling so loudly; you’ll disturb the neighbors.”

“Okay!”  He screams.

He can hear her sighing from inside the house.  You can’t stop a storm though, so she just shakes her head.  “Come here a second; your helmet’s falling off.”

“It’s not,” he whines, but he’s been fussing with it - his prized Ninja Turtle helmet coated with too many stickers - and he doesn’t want it to fall off and get ruined so he pedals down their driveway and kicks the stand up.

He trots over to his mom who meets him on their porch.  

“Silly boy,” she says, brushing his sweaty hair away from his eyes and patting his cheeks lovingly.  “Is that a friend of yours up there?  I notice he’s been watching you for a while now.  Must be boring all by yourselves, why don’t you ask him to play?”

Keith squints his eyes up the hill.  Apparently, all his screaming has attracted attention.  What’s new?  He starts when he realizes he recognizes the boy.

It’s Shiro, peering around a tree nervously like he’s doing something wrong.  Keith lifts his hands up into the air, waving them like mad.  “Heeey!!”

Shiro looks behind him, and then hesitantly points a finger to his chest.  “Me?” his posture asks.

Keith keeps waving his arms, laughing so loudly that the sound bounces off his neighbor’s garage doors and back at him.  “Shiro!”

His helmet is tightened and his mom pats him on the head.  “Go have fun,” she says.  “Be careful.  Watch for cars.”

“Okay!  Thanks, Mom!”  He hops on his bike and pedals hard up the road.

“Shiro!”  He breathes, grinning widely.  “I almost thought I was seeing things!  You live around here?  Where?”

Shiro still looks a little shell-shocked to see Keith, his eyes dazed with stars.  He points down the road and licks his lips before he says, “Up the hill.  Is that your house?  Your mom?”

Keith nods with a small little, “mmhmm!”  He gives his helmet a tug; it holds steady.

Shiro brightens.  “I can see your house from my window!  Wow.”

“For real?”  Keith squawks.  It seems amazingly impossible at that age.

“We just moved here.”

“I’ve lived here all my life,” Keith says, bending down to pet Shiro’s dog.  “Hey, buddy.”

It’s friendly, like Shiro, and its tail wags happily.  

Keith grins excitedly, “Get your bike!  Let’s play!”

“O-oh,” Shiro blinks.  “I can’t.  I don’t have one.”

“ _No bike_?”  Keith nearly falls off his own at that admission; to Keith, a child without a bike is the ultimate tragedy.  

Shiro shakes his head shyly, shuffling his feet.  “I mostly stay in...my grandpa doesn’t like me going out.  You just ride around by yourself?”  Shiro asks, genuinely curious as he peeks around Keith to see if there’s anyone down below.

Keith nods.  “For now.”  

“Don’t you get lonely?”

“Yeah, but...”  He leans in, gesturing Shiro forward.  They’re neighbors, so they can share secrets now.  

Shiro bumbles over, leaning forward, face pink.  

Keith whispers, “my parents say not to tell anyone, but my mom’s pregnant right now, and once she has the baby, then I can play with him all the time.”

“How exciting,” Shiro whispers back, genuinely happy at the news.  “You’ll be a great big brother.”

“You think so?”  Keith brightens.  

Shiro nods.  “I have a little brother too.  He’s my best friend.  I love him very much.”

Keith’s chest rises as he inhales the sweet sunny air, imagining what it’ll be like.  Soon, and he can have a brother of his very own.  “You’re a good big brother too,” Keith says.  “I already know.”

Shiro blushes and smiles.

“We can play without bikes!”  Keith thinks.  “We can collect bugs.”

Shiro looks torn.  “Oh, I want to, but my grandpa’s strict.  He wants me to study...  I’ll, uh, I’ll talk with him, but...”

“Cool,” Keith says, grinning.

Shiro nods, taking in a deep breath like the word is something that requires deep thought.  He musters strength and then says,  “ _Cool_.”

 

Shiro gets picked on at school by the other boys.  It’s not anything physical that Keith has seen, just whispered remarks behind his back, but Keith can tell that it gets to him.

He’s a little different.  The clothes he wears daily is too proper for a public school.  His back is always laced up tight, shoulders back, neck tall, and he’s always messing with his hands nervously.  He stutters sometimes when he talks, and even when he doesn’t, his language is too formal, too polite.

But he’s sweet, so sweet, and Keith can’t stand that he gets grief over things that are so minor and dumb and _stupid_ , just because the other boys don’t know what to think of it.  And if Keith’s good at one thing, it’s flinging himself headfirst into what he thinks is right.  

This time, it’s Lance who starts it.  He sees Keith wave to Shiro from across the room and his face turns green with envy.  He leans over his desk, points his finger straight at Shiro and yells on the top of his lungs, “weirdo!”  

Every head in the class turns to look at Shiro, weighing him down with their prying unapologetic eyes.  It makes Shiro tense and shrivel, hanging his head to hide his expression.  He trembles.

Keith _squirms_ all over and even though the teacher has just walked in, Keith can’t stand it any longer.  

He flings himself headfirst, tackling Lance and his ignorant grin over the desks.  They’re a pile of flying arms and legs and Keith manages to kick him in the jaw somehow before the teacher pulls him off.

Lance is a disheveled mess on the ground, panting, eyes wide in confusion.  He doesn’t know what hit him.

“Keith!”  The teacher roars.  “Principal.  Now!”

Keith resists the urge to spit at Lance and the teacher before sauntering off.  He’s halfway out the door when Shiro cries out, voice basically a squeak, “He was defending me!  He was just...trying to get them to stop...”

The teacher turns his back to Keith.  “Is that true?”

Keith shrugs, hands in his pockets, still angry.

“Thank you,” Shiro breathes from across the room, hand clutching his heart and leaning forward onto the tips of his toes, like he wants to run to Keith.  “Thank you.”

As Lance and Keith are carted off to the Principal’s office together, Keith finds himself smiling quietly to himself.

 

A few months later, Keith’s mom dies due to complications during labor.  He loses his mom and the baby.  In a way, he loses his dad too, who just sits at the kitchen table, staring out the window, not saying a word.  He sits there for hours.  The sun rises and sets and still, his dad won’t move.

Keith being Keith refuses to stay home the next day, wants to be brave.

Shiro sees him and waves when he walks in; Keith tries to wave back, but he’s tired and he’s numb and he can’t muster his usual grin.  Shiro notices, of course, the way he notices everything, the smile wiping clean off his face.

A half hour in and Lance taps him on the shoulder, hands a note over.  Keith frowns and Lance points across the room vaguely, shrugging.  He unfolds it and there’s Shiro’s fancy script, too tidy for a fifth grader:

_Are you okay?_

Keith’s always been vulnerable to kindness.  It’s like a knife to his chest - the question his father hasn’t asked him yet, the question he won’t dare ask himself.  

 _Are you okay_?  Shiro asks.

He breaks down in front of the entire class.  

First, it’s one tear falling onto the page in front of him, marring Shiro’s words, and then it’s another, and soon, he’s sobbing, pressing his hands into his eyes and curling in on himself.  It hurts.  It hurts so badly.

The teacher takes him outside the classroom and tries to explain to him about death and how it’s a part of life and it hurts, it does, but it’ll get better, with time.  

Keith can’t stop crying.  He understands, but it doesn’t make the pain go away.  The teacher asks him if he wants to go home, but no, he doesn’t know where he wants to go, but it isn’t home, in that awful silence watching his father wait for people who won’t return, so the teacher lets him stay outside on the steps of the quad as long as he can still see him from the window.  He doesn’t move.  He doesn’t do anything.

The door to their classroom is propped open and he can hear Shiro asking the teacher if he can go to the bathroom.  Two seconds later, Shiro is stepping out beside Keith, head bowed and face full of sorrow.  “I’m so sorry, Keith” he says quietly, sitting beside Keith.  “My parents too.”

Keith tries to hold in the spike of emotion that rises up to choke him, but he can’t bear it and it bursts out of him as an ugly sob that makes him feel gutted, makes him feel like there’s a gaping hole in his chest.  Shiro’s hand is hesitant as it touches Keith’s back and rubs small circles.  

They stay like that for the rest of the morning, ignoring the curious students who walk past and the sun that rises high into the deep blue sky.  Even though they know their teacher is keeping an eye on them, he never comes to collect them and they leave when they’re ready, together.

 

In middle school, they don’t have any classes together and their schedules don’t match up, so they never talk anymore.  It’s sad and Keith is disappointed but there’s a lot going on so his mind can’t dwell on it for too long.  

He feels like he’s always running.  He throws himself into soccer, baseball, basketball, volleyball, whatever he can do, he does it.  If he lets himself sit for too long, his mind starts to tumble down, like bricks of a house crashing into the ocean, so he runs, runs, runs, so he won’t have to think about it.

He’ll see Shiro across the lawn sometimes, who always perks up at the sight of Keith, standing taller and waving like a maniac, a bright blush in his cheeks.  

Keith is never able to hold in his laughter, jumping into the air to wave back with both hands.

“ _Heeey!!”_ They’ll call.  Teachers shush them loudly and their friends by their sides whisper in horror, “be quiet, class is in session!”, but neither of them care.  They do it every time.  It’s the only time they get and they cherish it, laughing so loudly it rings across the courtyard.

Shiro starts having more and more friends hanging around him and Keith is delighted that he’s fitting in.

“You’re getting so popular!”  Keith shouts across the quad one day when he’s feeling particularly brave.

Shiro jogs across the grass and grins brightly, winded.  

“Good thing you’re tall or else I’d never see you through the crowds.  They swarm you like you’re handing out free candy or something.”

Shiro’s not concerned.  “I’ll always see you, Keith.  No matter how many people are in the way.”

Keith’s face flames bright red and he suddenly gets why girls are constantly all over Shiro.  He’s kind and sweet and genuine in the ways that middle schoolers just _aren’t_.  He’s the kind of person who blushes when girls tell jokes and compliments their new haircuts.

But beyond their small chats, they don’t get much contact, and the year keeps chugging along, putting distance between them.

 

On Valentine’s Day, Keith expects nothing, but when he comes in from lunch, his desk is ajar, pressed open by a big box wrapped in pink.  There are a few freshly cut flowers bundled together on top, tied neatly into a complicated bow.

Wow, what a set-up.

Keith thinks it’s a mistake, ready to transfer it one desk over, to the suavest boy in the class where it actually makes sense to be, but the boy shakes his head, pointing to the tag.  “That’s for you,” he says.

Keith turns the tag, confused.  There’s his name, written in fancy script.

“No ‘from’?”  He frowns, turning it over again just in case.  He checks the wrapping paper, but there’s nothing.  Suspicious, he rips the paper off and opens the box.  

Inside are all his favorite candies, stuffed to the top of the box so that it’s nearly bursting.  There’s so much, and not a bit of it is something Keith doesn’t like.  It’s so perfect it almost scares him.

“Oooooh,” his classmates gather around, staring inside, eyes wide.  “Keith’s got a secret admirer!”

“Do not!”  He denies, face going red.  

“Who is it from?”  They ask.  “Who does it say?  Did anyone see someone come in?”

No one did.  They all shake their heads and Keith sits down, disappointed.

He puts the box into his backpack and class resumes.  The day passes and no one steps forward to claim the gift.

At the end of class, he’s ripping his zipper down his backpack and stuffing his homework in so that he can leave when he feels someone tapping his shoulder.

He turns, a smile cracking across his face.   _“Shiro_!”

Shiro’s face is pink and he’s smiling shyly, twisting his fingers nervously.  “Hey, Keith.  Happy Valentine’s Day.  I like your classroom.  That’s your drawing on the wall, isn’t it?  It’s really good.”

“Thanks,” he grins.  He notices something different about Shiro and he ponders it for a moment before he exclaims, “You have braces!”

“Ah.  Uh, yeah,” Shiro squirms, ducking his head and trying to force his smile down so his braces are hidden.

“They look good on you,” Keith says, smiling wide.  “My dad says I’ll need braces soon too.  Hopefully I look as good as you do.”

Shiro shyly touches a hand to his mouth, his words going soft, “Thanks, Keith.”

Keith has a basket full of candy grams made from melted chocolate he poured into moulds last night.  He’s been handing out to everyone like a little fairy and he still has some left, so he grabs three and hands them out to Shiro.  “Here!  For you.  Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Shiro’s face burns and he lets out a short choked laugh, shuffling his feet.  “Th-thanks.  I, uh...  Did you...did you have a good day?”

“Oh, yeah, totally.  I got a lot of candy.  Someone gave me an entire boxful, but no one knows who it’s from.”

Shiro bites his lip and starts wringing the candy in his hands.  “Oooh,” he said, taking in a deep breath and looking anywhere but at Keith.  “That.  Did you like it?”

Keith grins, turning back to his backpack to take it out and show Shiro.  “Look at this.  Reese’s, jolly ranchers, andes mints, _candy canes_!  How did they know?  It’s like they can see into my brain.”

Shiro laughs breathily, nodding.  “Wow, that looks really good.”

“Did you want some?”

“Oh, no.  No, it’s fine.  I’ve, uh, I’ve got a lot at home.  You know...”

“Here,” Keith says anyway, shoving a few candy canes into Shiro’s hands.  “They’re your favorite, right?  You knooow you want theeeeeem.”

Shiro laughs, ducking his head again.  “ _Keith_ ,” he chuckles, but he clutches them to his heart as he sways back and forth, smiling brightly.

“I’m probably going to eat it all tonight,” Keith grins toothily.  He puts it away, ignoring the ripping noises of his backpack as he tries to make it fit.  “I miss having you in class all the time,” he says.  “I’ve wanted to show you for ages.  Look what I learned to draw.”  He scampers off to the white board and scribbles out a robot.  “Cool, right?”

Shiro steps behind him, smile wide.  “Wow, Keith.  You’re getting really good.”

“Thanks.  I bet you’re even better.  Can I see?”  Keith hands over the marker, but Shiro’s losing focus.  His face has been red the whole time and it only seems to be getting worse, spreading over his ears and down his neck.  Keith wonders if he maybe has a fever; the flu has been going around lately.

He steps back, shoulders tight, smile too wide.  “I gotta go.  I, uh, told someone I’d meet them.”

“Ooh,” Keith grins.  “A date?  It is Valentine’s Day.”

“No,” Shiro huffs out a laugh.  “Nothing like that.  I’m glad you liked your candies.  See you, Keith.”

“Bye, Shiro,” he waves, a little confused, but Lance has finally packed his bag and is whining that he’s ready to go, so they head out.

 

The next few years, Shiro is placed in all the advanced courses, in a separate section of the campus and Keith never sees him.  Ever.  It’s a little weird that they never see each other since they live fairly close to each other, but Keith’s brain rationalizes that since Shiro never got a bike when he was younger, his grandfather must be a scary man, and he is too afraid to try to search for their house unannounced.

One night, he’s sitting on the couch watching t.v. while his dad makes dinner, blower rattling away.  There’s so much noise from the damn thing he can hardly think straight, much less hear his show.  He’s irritated and sprawled out on the couch with the utmost grudging posture when the dog starts to bark.

“ _Keith_ ,” his dad calls from the kitchen.  “Can you see what he’s barking at?”

“I’m watching t.v.,” he yells back.

“Keith, get that door or dinner’s canceled.”

He groans loudly and kicks himself off the couch.  His parents used to be social, but not anymore, not after his mom died, so he hasn’t had to deal with visitors and it’s been really nice.  He doesn’t want to deal with them now.  It’s late.  Dusk has settled and the sun isn’t providing any help.  Everything is just dark blobs and vague shapes out there.

But as he turns, he sees a person at the end of their driveway, posture tense as if they’d just been caught committing the worst kind of crime.  

Keith frowns, squinting.  

The person squeaks and flicks something across the driveway so hard that it hits the door with one loud clack.

The person darts away quickly, not stopping when Keith tosses the screen door open and screams, “Hey, you get back here!”  

“Don’t chase after them,” Keith’s dad is already by his side, spatula still in one hand as he uses the other to pull Keith back inside.  He frowns.  “What’s that at the door?”

Keith kneels down and picks it up.  He holds it up to the light.  It’s a thick stick with wire twisted around it, forming leaves, and light pink tissue paper taped into petals.  It’s a rose.  It’s crude, but beautiful and obviously crafted with a lot of love.  On the wood, carved by hand, it says _Keith_ with a heart beside it.

Keith frowns at it, holding it up for his father to see.  “What is it?”

Keith’s dad blinks, a slow smile spreading across his face.  “A love note,” he murmurs, chuckling a little as he hands it back to Keith and pats his head fondly.

“A love note?”  Keith squawks, tossing his head out the door to try to see the person who had run away.

“Do you know who it’s from?”  

“I didn’t see them,” Keith murmurs, looking back down at the flower in his hand.  

He thinks it must be the same mystery person who gave him the candy.  He can’t, for the life of him, imagine who else it could be.  Unless it’s Lance trying to play some stupid joke, but Keith knows Lance doesn’t have the patience for something this delicately built.  

The next day at school, before class gets in, Keith sees a rare glimpse of Shiro near the bus stop, who is smiling timidly at him.  

 _Huh_ , Keith thinks as he jumps down the bus’ steps, _must be waiting for someone._

He doesn’t want to distract Shiro if he has a new girlfriend or something.  He knows he doesn’t understand that world and isn’t about to try to, so he just waves and doesn’t bother trying to cut through the crowd that separates them.  Shiro waves back, but his usual smile cracks a bit.  Keith doesn’t get it.

 

During lunch, Keith is cracking jokes with Lance and swinging his feet off a tall wall when Matt Holt, Shiro’s best friend, comes walking up to him, face pinched like he stepped in something awful.

“Heya,” Lance greets.

Matt ignores him and narrows his eyes on Keith.  He jerks his hand out and drops something onto Keith’s lap.  It’s a small gift, a piece of paper attached. Keith frowns.

“It’s from Shiro,” he says.

“Oh,” Keith says in surprise.  “What for?”  Looking down with renewed interest, Keith goes to unwrap it.   

Before he can, Matt steps closer so that he’s in Keith’s face, glaring.  “I want you to stop doing this.”

Keith blinks, hands stalling on the gift wrap.  “Huh?”

“Do you think it’s funny?  Do you like how it makes you feel powerful?  What’s _wrong with you_?”

Keith scours his mind for anything he might’ve done lately that was bad.  He can’t think of anything.  Again, he goes, “ _Huh?”_

“Look.  Just leave Shiro alone.  You’ve done enough.”  

“Shiro’s my friend...”  Keith says.  He doesn’t get it.

Matt tsks, shaking his head angrily, before turning on his heel sharply and stalking away.

“What the hell?”  Lance leans back to watch Matt go.  “What’d you do to Shiro?”

Keith turns too, but there’s no Shiro, just Matt, so it’s pointless.  “I have no idea...”  He mutters.

He’s ten.  

Yeah, he’s the youngest in his grade and probably shouldn’t even be in middle school, but he got in because of a technicality and his grades are good, so no one really cares.  But his mind is in a different place than his peers.  He’s not thinking of romance; he’s thinking of mud and bugs and riding his bike down the hill as fast as he can go until he gets a rock shoved into his knee that tweezers can’t get out.

He doesn’t understand what Matt’s talking about.  He feels Matt’s disappointment and turmoil, but it’s disconnected.  Faraway.

He unwraps the present to find a tiny lion that fits in the palm of his hand.  It’s red.  Hand-painted.  When he gets home, he sets it on his windowsill to catch the sun’s rays.  It looks good there, like it was made to be there.  He sees it every morning when he wakes up and smiles.

 

It isn’t until high school that they’re allowed to have a hand in their schedule.  Shiro drops out of some of his AP classes and Keith signs up for some.  They keep missing each other.  

But at lunch, they’re free to roam as they please, so Keith is pleasantly surprised when he happens by the quad to get beef jerky and he sees Shiro sitting on a bench, surrounded by friends, looking happy.  

He’s grown.  He’s no longer the gawky little teen, half of his face filled with braces and the other half covered in acne.  His complexion is basically glowing and his teeth are perfect.  He definitely has started working out and Keith has heard a rumor that he’s going to try out for the football team in a few weeks.  Keith is...impressed, to say the least.  Happy for the timid nervous Shiro that he knew growing up.  He’s different now.  Keith can see it in the way he moves, newly confident and pleased about it.

In comparison, Keith is still the same size that he was last year ( _small_ ), he’s just about as gawky still.  He’s starting to break out across his forehead so he tries to hide it beneath long bangs, but he doesn’t really think it’s working.  

It almost feels wrong when Shiro spots him through the crowd and breaks out in a wide grin, waving like a madman, like he always used to.  They’re in high school, not middle school.  Things feel different.  

“Heey, Keith!”  His voice booms now, rich and deep.  Keith nearly can’t believe he’s the same person, only he is, dorky and genuine and calling out to Keith across the quad like he’s still just a kid.

Keith laughs on reflex, head down shyly as every beautiful popular girl and boy turn their baffled eyes on him and his gawky awkward body.  He manages a small wave, but he knows he doesn’t belong and keeps on walking before they turn hostile.

Of course, Shiro won’t let him get away with just that.  Shiro finds him before lunch is over, looking every bit a god as he grins down at Keith.  Keith’s not even sure how Shiro found him; he and his friends chose this nice dark corner because it was hidden from view, away from others, quiet and totally unsociable.  Also because there were no other benches open.

Shiro’s still wringing his hands and taking in deep breaths, but his face looks collected and calm as he says, almost sounding totally in his element, “We don’t have any classes together again.  I thought this would be our year.”  He seems to notice his hands’ nervous movement and he shoves them into his pockets, looking casual.

He’s so different, but so much the same.  Keith can’t help but stare in awe.

Keith accuses, “You dropped out of AP English and Bio.  I thought those we’d have together for sure.”

“Ah, yeah,” Shiro rubs the back of his head, sighing.  “I thought that you...  Well, it doesn’t matter.  We can’t change it now.”

“Already tried, huh?”  Keith jokes.

Shiro blushes, looking away.

Keith tries to quell the nervousness in his stomach.  He doesn’t get why he feels this way in front of Shiro, only it doesn’t totally feel like Shiro anymore, so he supposes that’s why.

It’s Keith who’s stuttering now, “I, uh, I heard you’re trying out for the football team.”

“Yeah, maybe.  And I heard you’re thinking of joining the art club.”

“Ah.  Yeah.  Maybe.  Not interested in art anymore?  I’d bet you’d still be good.”

“Ha, well, if you want to play that way, as I recall, it was always _you_ playing football in elementary school. You were the best one.”

Keith laughs, shrugging.  “And you were always the one drawing...  Things change, I guess.”

“Yeah...”  Shiro sighs.  “Things change.”

Some of Keith’s friends are coming back over from their bathroom break and he can see the confusion in their eyes as they zero in on Shiro, too brightly out of place in their dark corner of the school.

Shiro spots them too, but ignores them.  “Do you have any of your art posted online?”  Shiro asks.  “I’d love to see it.”

“Huh?  Oh, yeah, totally.  Here.  I’ll write it down for you, it’s kind of a weird url...”  He rips out a piece of paper from his binder and scribbles the address down, then hands it out to Shiro.  “No cranes with hats though.  Not yet, anyway.  Something I need to perfect.”

Shiro laughs, holding the paper between two hands like it’s something precious and fragile.  “I can’t wait to see.  I still remember your paper cranes.  They were beautiful.”

“Oh, hey, I remember those,” Lance comes in, cutting in front of them to get through and stepping over Keith, hands filled with bowls of french fries.  “Still thinking about them, huh?”

Shiro jumps, looking over at Lance.  “Oh.  Uh, hey.  Well, I’d better go.  See you, Keith.”

“See you,” he waves.

Lance frowns at Shiro’s retreating figure.  “Weird of him to come over here.”

“He’s not worried about society’s stupid cliques.  He’s cool.”

“It’s just weird,” Lance says, taking his seat beside Keith.  “It’s like he’s always following you around or something like a kicked puppy.”

One of their friends laughs in disbelief.  “A boy like _that_ is not a kicked puppy.”

Keith and Lance roll their eyes.

That night, Keith logs onto his art account to find sweet encouraging messages peppered through his gallery, each one well-thought out.  

Even Keith’s art friends don’t bother leaving half as thoughtful comments.  He finds himself smiling at each one, heart growing warm and fond.  He knows his art’s shit but Shiro seems to find something uniquely great about each one.  He’s got a gift for being kind.

Keith can’t imagine when Shiro had the time to do this, seeing as he had football practice that night; Keith saw them getting ready to go out as Keith was heading home from his art club.  

Keith goes out on a limb and messages Shiro his email and waits for a response.

And waits.

And waits.

He’s starting to feel really fucking stupid when his computer finally beeps and there it is: a response.

It’s almost two in the morning, but Keith almost punches the air in victory anyway.  A response is a response.

S: _I’m sorry it took so long to reply.  I’ve only just finally settled into bed.  I imagine you’re asleep by now, and I hope you’re sleeping well.  :)  See you in the morning!_

Keith snorts.  The tone is so damn polite even online.  He types out quickly:

K: _Nope.  I’m nocturnal.  If I had it my way, I’d go to school at night and sleep during the day.  But I’m not the one in charge, so the world continues to suck._

S: _Keith!  :)_

K: _Shiro!  :)_

S: _I feel like we haven’t talked in ages.  Hi.  Tell me about yourself.  Tell me about your life now._

Keith’s learned to become a private person over the years, but he doesn’t think twice about telling Shiro whatever he wants to hear.  

Maybe it’s because it’s two in the morning, or maybe it’s because it’s just _Shiro_ , but their conversation gets deep quickly, existential in a way only night can provide for them.  

It becomes that each night, whenever they meet up online, they talk.  Soon they know more about each other’s deepest darkest fears more than they know about each other’s favorite movie.  It’s kind of funny, but Keith likes it that way.  All his secrets go to Shiro, whom he knows he can trust.  No one else.

“I don’t get the two of you,” Lance says one night.  They’re having a sleepover, but Keith can’t actually do the sleeping part, so he’s on the computer while Lance shoves himself into a sleeping bag.   “And I don’t think I ever will.”

 

Keith’s junior year he gets hit hard by puberty.  It comes late, but he supposes he’s glad it came at all.  He’s pretty suddenly and he’s getting attention, but he’s still really damn awkward.  

The first time he feels comfortable enough to actually flirt, he’s at a party and he’s maybe a little drunk.  The boy’s pretty; he’s Asian and he reminds Keith of Shiro, so they get to talking and he finds it’s easy, it’s seamless.  They like all the same movies and listen to all the same music.  The boy’s an artist and he lends Keith some tips and Keith lends a few of his own.  They’re comfortable in a way that surprises Keith, so he doesn’t mind when the boy leans in and kisses him.

It’s his first kiss.  He tries to be cool about it and not freak out, but internally he really is.  There are no fireworks.  The only reason his heart is hammering in his chest is because he thinks he’s about to have a panic attack.  His fingers burn.  He’s so uncomfortable.

The boy pulls back, pressing his lips together as he watches Keith’s face closely.  His eyes are hooded, tinged with a bit of apprehension and excitement.  He murmurs softly, chuckling under his breath, “We haven’t even exchanged names yet.  I’m Ryou.  ...You?”

Keith’s just trying to hold it together.  Really he just wants to dart out the door and go home.  He forces out, “Keith.”

Ryou freezes, hands going still on Keith’s leg.  “...Keith?”

At the shift, Keith’s even more uncomfortable immediately.  “Keith Kogane.”

Immediately, Ryou pushes himself away, looking sick.  “Oh, God.”

Keith blinks, the sting of betrayal cracking sharp across his heart.  “What?  What’d I do?”

“No.  No, it’s not you.  God.  I can’t believe this.”  Ryou is shoving his face into his hands, groaning.  

“ _Seriously_.  What’s going on?”  Keith’s about to die probably.

“No.  ...God.”  Ryou despairs, rocking back into his seat, face pulling down miserably as he looks back over at Keith again.  He is very beautiful and Keith can’t deny that, but the kiss was lackluster and Keith realizes that beautiful does not necessarily mean there’ll be chemistry.

Keith thinks that maybe Ryou has also just been hit by the sad realization, when he groans again, saying in despair, “I’m Shiro’s brother.”

Keith freezes.  He can see it now, like the idiot he is.  Of course they’re brothers.  That’s why Ryou is so damn beautiful.  Of course.

“If I had known you were Keith, I would have _never_.  Never.”

“Oh, um...why?  Does Shiro say bad things about me or something?”  He laughs feebly.

Ryou glares.  “Are you kidding me right now?”

“What?”  Keith asks, eyes wide in confusion.  He doesn’t understand the animosity.  

Ryou watches him, face melting into bafflement.  “You don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?”

Ryou laughs in disbelief, closing his eyes and shaking his head.  “God.   _What?_ Shiro is totally, completely in love with you.”

Keith blinks again.  “Huh?”

“You had to have known,” Ryou says, brow furrowed.  “I mean, he’s always talking about you.  For years now.  Since elementary school.  Keith this, Keith that.  It’s like you hung the moon and the stars.  I mean, why did you think that he gave you that box of chocolate on _Valentine’s_ _Day_?  He got our grandpa to teach him how to wrap presents just for that, you know.  And planted that lame garden so he could hand cut flowers for you.  God, it makes me cringe.  He gave you that bobblehead cat that he painted by hand.  And why do you think he carved that heart flower for you?  For fun?  Friends just do that?  Seriously, tell me what you were thinking. I am just...my mind is blown right now, that’s all I can say.”

Keith’s stunned.  He shakes his head, breathless, not able to absorb it all.

“God, you really didn’t know...”  Ryou stares at him with newfound pity.  “My sappy brother’s been waiting for you all this time, you know.  He thinks you’re the one.  He’s always thought that.”

Uncomfortable.  Keith doesn’t know what to do with that info.  Everything feels changed suddenly.  The pressure rises up from the ground and threatens to swallow Keith whole.

“You know,” Ryou says, leaning forward and savoring the look on Keith’s face.  “Everything I just said...about the movie, the music...I lied about it all.  I just said that to impress you.  Those are all the things my brother likes.”  He gives Keith a loaded look.

“Oh...”  Keith says, winded.

“I’m not the artist, either.  Shiro paints sometimes and I watch him.”  He cringes a little bit.  “I thought you were cool, so I just...yeah.  I lied about everything basically.  Sorry.  But I mean...it’s kind of funny.  All these years of thinking Shiro was maybe literally crazy about you and...looks like maybe Shiro was right all along.  You both are so dumb.  Maybe you two really are meant for each other.”

Keith can’t sleep for a week.  His mind’s too congested.  He doesn’t check his social media at night, where he knows Shiro is probably roaming.  

It’s awkward now.  He knows too much.  They share so much between them, all the way down to how they want to die, but Shiro has never even remotely mentioned _this_.  And this is a huge deal.  It almost feels like betrayal.

Unless...he does mention it.  He does and Keith is just too much of a fool to see it for what it is.

Keith isn’t good at these sort of things and he doesn’t have much nerve.  He’s a coward at heart.  He wishes Ryou had never told him and they could just have their friendship like it was, safe and without consequences.

It’s not that he hates the idea of being with Shiro or anything, but it’s just that....well, it’s just _strange_ suddenly.  Now there are expectations.  Keith has always failed at those.  And Shiro’s so much wiser in the few years he has on Keith.  Keith’s just not...matured.  Not like that.

They never see each other at school, they never talk in person.  Keith’s an _artist_ , Shiro’s a _football player_ .  It’s an equation that doesn’t _work_.

It takes awhile - weeks - but Keith finally finds enough nerve to go on the computer and seek Shiro out again.  He’s nervous.  He knows that Ryou probably told Shiro everything and now Shiro’s going to force him to answer a question that hasn’t even been asked.

Shiro’s name flickers across the screen.

S: _Hi_.

Keith swallows hard, fingers hovering over the keys as he debates, freaks out, and then returns back to his initial response.  Witty, well-practiced, but, best of all, effective:

K: _Hi_.

S: _How are you_?

K: _Good?_

S: _Glad to hear it.  :)  It’s been awhile since we’ve talked.  The internet’s felt so lonely without you.  Have you been alright?_

K: _My mind’s been a mess lately.  I’m sorry.  I should’ve said something before disappearing like that.  Wasn’t cool._

S _:_ _:(  Sorry to hear that.  Don’t worry about me, I was just worried about you.  If you ever need to talk, I’m here for you, okay?_

Could Shiro really be letting him off that easily?  Keith waits, certain he’ll say something more about it, but he never does.

It touches Keith somehow; he knows Shiro knows but he doesn’t push, doesn’t whine.  He just accepts and holds out a helping hand.  Keith couldn’t ask for a better friend.

They fall back into their natural rhythm.  It’s easy.  It feels nice.  Keith likes being friends, too afraid to think of what might happen beyond that.  So they just stay that way.  It’s good.  It’s fine.

 

And things just...stay that way.  Between Keith and Shiro, at least.

Because one day, Keith is hanging out at Lance’s, both laying across his bed like they’ve done since they were children, watching the tv through bored hooded eyes, when Lance has one of his brilliant ideas.

“I’ve been thinking.”

Keith grunts, not tearing his eyes away from their stupid show about god knows what.  Some obstacle course or something about ninjas and warriors.  But they keep falling and Keith is unimpressed.

“I suck at getting dates.”

“You do.”

“And you suck at getting dates.”

Keith snorts but he can’t deny it.  “I do.”

“So...  Maybe...um, maybe...   _We_ should be a couple...maybe...”  His words fade away.

Keith kicks his feet and sighs, aggravated.  “What the hell are you saying?”

He stops though, when he sees that Lance is blushing and looking away.  He’s serious.  Actually serious.  They’ve known each other since forever and Keith has never even had the thought.

But, he guesses, Lance is sort of pretty in the right light, if he’s not being fucking annoying.

And, he means, they’re always together anyway.  It’s not like things will change.  And Lance looks _really_ hopeful.

Keith thinks of Shiro for a long moment.  Of Shiro’s pink cheeks and bashful smiles.  He thinks of the way that Shiro has always treated him kindly, gently, just the way Keith has always wanted even before he knew he wanted it.  And he likes him.

But Keith is lonely and he’s dumb and fifteen and his hormones are raging inside of him telling him _I don’t fucking care who, anyone will do_ , and Lance is safe.  Shiro...Shiro is perfection.  He’s a god.  Keith is intimidated by his radiance.  If Shiro were to ever kiss him, Keith will undoubtedly die.  And beyond that...it’s not right.

 _Anyone will do_ is not what Shiro deserves.  Shiro deserves the moon and the stars.  Not a piece of shit on the bottom of his shoe.

Keith respects Shiro, but he does not respect himself, and that’s where the problem lies.

Lance is safe.  If the relationship explodes in their face, it’s expected.  If Keith makes a mess of things, Lance already knows right now exactly what he’s in for.

So, brow furrowed and heart thumping uncomfortably, he says, shrugging, “...sure, I guess.”

It feels more like friends with benefits.  They connect on certain levels, they always have, it’s why they’ve been friends for ages, but it doesn’t feel how Keith wants it to feel - like the cosmos and the moon and the stars.  He wants it to feel like music, he wants his heart to pull and stretch and cry.  

It doesn’t do any of those things.  

They make out sloppily on Lance’s messy bed, feeling each other with desperate clumsy fingers and jumping apart whenever they hear Lance’s siblings running up the stairs.  

It’s not ideal.

Keith hates it more and more each day and finds himself thinking about Shiro often, but he doesn’t say anything.  Not to anyone.

Not even to Shiro, who has been distant lately.  Keith feels guilt, but he’s stuck, stuck, stuck.

Keith floats through it.  It’s like he’s stuck in a dream and can’t wake up.  Months flit by on his calendar and he’s just standing there, still, stuck in place.

Suddenly it’s their senior year, but Keith’s still there, world passing him by, still with Lance.  They just... _are_.  Stagnant.  Choking him.  

Neither is happy, but neither takes the initiative to break it off, so it stays between them, like a fog.  

They don’t even really make out anymore.  Keith thinks it’s gross.  Cold and wet and Lance is all up in his space and it’s suffocating him and...eh.  Whenever Lance tries to lean over, Keith’s stomach drops and he has to force himself not to move away.  

“Do you not -”  Lance always starts to ask, but then doesn’t, his face marred in guilt and sadness as he leans away, pulling his hands to himself.

Keith finds himself crying alone in the bathroom several times and he thinks he’s miserable, and it’s not fair to Lance.  It’s not fair to himself.  He doesn’t know what the problem is - it’s everything, and he’s afraid if he does end their relationship, he’ll have nothing and no one, and he won’t be able to stand that gnawing emptiness on his own.

Shiro won’t even talk to him anymore.

His dad’s always working, his mom’s dead, his brother he was supposed to have he never even got to meet.  He’s still that boy, waiting, stuck in a body that’s growing too fast for him.  He’s so lonely.  There are people all around him, but it feels like it’s just him and he hates himself.

He’s so afraid of being consumed even more alone than he already is, so he says nothing to Lance and bottles it up, enduring.

It warps him.

He starts getting anxious and irritable.  And then he starts getting violent.  He hurts a kid for no real reason.  His grades start dropping and he has to drop out of the AP classes.  Even then, he’s causing disruptions.  He runs away from home a few times just because he can’t take it, can’t live with this feeling growing and twisting inside of the cage of himself.  He’s drowning and no one can see.

His father starts to yell at him.  And Lance starts to beg him.  And his principal has to call him in again and again, and he says he’s disappointed because Keith had shown such promise once before, but now he’s on the path to nowhere.

He starts punching the walls.  He starts clawing welts into his thighs and torso - anywhere others won’t see.  He starts throwing his phone across the room just to see if it’ll break.  He puts his foot through the screen door and they have to toss it out.  He cries and cries and cries by himself in the showers, tangling his fingers into his hair and wishing, hoping, praying for anything else, anywhere else.  He doesn’t want to _be_ this person anymore.

His father doesn’t know what the problem is, so he blames it on the internet and starts to turn off the router at midnight, so Keith sets up another one, where his father doesn’t notice it, and turns off the lights in his room so his father won’t see.

It’s during these times he waits for Shiro, who doesn’t come online anymore.  

So he’s alone, alone, alone.

He’s angry.  He hates himself.

It just builds.  He’s falling apart.

 

Senior year is coming to a close.  Rewind a year back and Keith was on his way to being valedictorian.  But this last semester was a huge blow to his grades and he’s not even a salutatorian anymore.  It bothers him less than he thinks it should.

There’s a rally and Keith’s tired down to his very core.  He’s not in the mood for this shit, but Lance won’t let him ditch.  He grabs his arm and drags him along in the crowd, humming with false cheer.  “You’ll like it, I swear.  You _used_ to like them.  Remember when we were freshmen and they had that Saw clown guy riding around on that tiny bike?  It scared the shit out of you, I couldn’t stop laughing for days.”

They climb the bleachers and Lance tries to guide them near to the top.  

Keith sees Shiro there, sitting against the wall, laughing about something with Matt, hands animated, face happy.

It’s like a knife to the chest.

“I don’t want to sit there,” Keith says.  

“Why?  The top is the best.”

“It’s always hot and it smells like gym socks and I’m afraid of heights.”

“You’re not afraid of heights.”

“I don’t want to sit up there, Lance!  Jesus.  Let me go.”

“Okay, okay, sheesh!”  Lance backs off, hands open at either side.

Keith realizes he’s making a scene.  It’s loud in the gym as everyone files in, but not that loud to cover up his yelling.  He can see, in his peripheral where he’s painfully aware, that Shiro is looking over.  

“What about here?”  Lance asks, eyebrows high.  

He just wants everyone to stop looking, for Shiro to stop looking, so he just nods, pressing his fingers into his eyes.  “Yeah.  Whatever.”

They sit at the very end, near the bars on the side, staring out over the gym.  There’s so many people and Keith is actually a little afraid of heights.  It doesn’t help that there’s a twenty foot drop between him and the rickety bars at his side.  His anxiety is prickling at him insistently.  He wrings his hands and bounces his leg, trying to keep it together.

“God,” Lance is chuckling.  “There’s Acxa.   _Still_ on the cheerleading squad, I see.  Do you see how she’s dancing?  I’d bet her boyfriend’s really happy.  What’s she trying to advertise?  Not that there’s much there _to_ advertise with.”

Keith tosses him a dirty look.  “Look.  Just because you’re still butthurt over her rejecting you _three fucking years ago_ doesn’t mean -”

“Shh!”  Someone in front of them turns around sharply and presses their finger to their mouth before turning back.

Keith grits his teeth and tries to quell his urge to _hit something_ .  He’s picked up some anger management books in the school library - he doesn’t _want_ to be this way - and he tries to do what they say.  Tries to recognize that he’s angry, tries to capture the emotion and observe it from a distance.  

It’s not fucking working.

He has to leave or he’s going to blow.  

He turns and says urgently, “Lance, I’m going.”

“No, no, no.  You always bail on me.  You won’t go on dates with me anymore, you won’t go to dinner, you won’t even come over.  You used to always come over!  Don’t bail on me _at school_ too.”

“I’ve got to go,” he says, shaking his head and getting up anyway.  

Lance catches his arm and pulls him back down.  “Not.  Today.  I refuse.  I’m tired of this ‘angsty Keith’ thing.  I miss the old you.  You used to be fun, you used to _want_ to hang out with me, we used to be _friends_.  Now I feel like you can hardly stand me anymore.”

“Can we _not_ do this here?”  Keith seethes, tugging his arm from Lance’s hold roughly.

“Just.  Stay.”  Lance begs.  He’s always begging him, always asking things from him.  It’s stretching Keith too thin.  “ _Please_.”

But Lance is right.  He’s been a shitty acquaintance, much less a friend, and even less a boyfriend.  He takes a deep breath in, holds it.  Nods shortly.  It’s really the least he can do.

“ _Thank you_.”

Keith closes his eyes and leans onto his elbows, pressing his face into his hands.  He tries to zone out the loud thumping sound of the music playing.  He tries to block out the voices roaring over the speakers, the sounds of cheers, and pounding against the flimsy bleachers.  It’s shaking and rumbling and sound is penetrating through his chest, thrashing against his bones and pulling out of his back, clean out of him.  

The principal and teachers are talking about graduation, about bringing loved ones to visit - family.  They’re talking about how everyone has put forth so much effort and how they should all be so proud, that they’ve all worked for this moment.  That their families are _so proud_.  Each word cuts into him.

He starts to think about his dad, the only family he has left, and how his dad can only spare the most tired perturbed looks for him.  He can’t remember the last time his dad told him he was proud of him, or that he even loved him.  And why should he?  

It’s not like his dad is a bad person, he isn’t, but there is no bridge between them anymore.  Keith is not worth his dad’s attention.  

His dad is not proud of him, his dad is ashamed of him.  He could’ve been so much more.  So much.  But he slipped and he fell and he can’t get up.

If Keith even graduates, there will be no loved one at his graduation.  His dad probably doesn’t even know what grade he’s in.

“...Keith?”  Lance is asking, hesitant hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t,” Keith whispers.  His voice quakes, but it’s lost in the loudness of the gym.  He’s two seconds from breaking.  It’s too late to run.  He’s made a horrible mistake.

His mind keeps spewing poison.  

Lance hates him.

He’s done nothing but be selfish and mopey and undesirable.  He’s only ever pushed away the ones who loved and cared for him.  He’s only ever made mistakes.

Shiro hates him.

Shiro, whose heart is so filled with love and acceptance, who probably would be the most difficult person to push away ever, no longer will even talk to him.

Keith hates himself.  He hates himself more than anything.  He can’t take it anymore.  He can’t take being trapped in this prison of a body.

Lance shakes him.  “Hey.  Buddy.  Snap out of it.”

“Don’t touch me!  Stop touching me!  I don’t want you near me ever again!  I don’t want you begging me and clinging to me anymore or calling me or anything; I can’t _take it_!”  

Keith jumps up, tripping over feet, pushing himself down the aisle and out.  The speakers are blaring, too loud, too much.  The lights are piercing into his skull.  He can barely see where he’s going, everything’s swirling in noxious colors and he can’t feel his body anymore.  He’s somewhere else.  He’s someone else.

He trips on a step and falls badly.  He’s suddenly on his face on the gym floor.

“Jesus,” someone says beside him, a shadow standing over him.  The music is still pounding.  Some shitty skit is blaring.  “Are you okay?”

God.  He stumbles to his feet and runs out as fast as he can.

He doesn’t know where he wants to go, but it’s not home.  He’s been in an art class, recently painting a wall that’s in an odd corner of the school where no one will probably see, and he finds himself there.  It’s always quiet, always alone.  He presses himself into the literal corner and lets his head rest against the cool cement.

Jesus, he’s a mess.  An embarrassing explosive mess.  He hopes none of the teachers saw him, that Shiro didn’t see him, that Lance will pretend that never happened.

But, of course, things never work out that way.

It’s Shiro who finds him.  Shiro, who hasn’t even talked to him in ages.  

“Hey,” he says quietly, standing a few feet away like Keith’s a wounded animal who’ll sprint at the wrong movement.  His hands are wringing together, something Keith hasn’t seen him do since their first day of high school.  “...I...”

He looks so sad as he watches Keith.  So hurt, like Keith’s pain is bleeding into him and he can feel everything, every minor detail, ever shard that’s lodged into his heart.

“Lance is looking for you,” he whispers, looking down.  “I thought you might be here.  I’ll, uh, I’ll go get him.”

He turns and walks off.  

Keith watches him go.  His hand twitches.  For two seconds, he thinks of calling out to Shiro, asking him to stay.  Begging him to.  Maybe he’d thank him, apologize to him, who the hell knows.

He doesn’t, though.  He watches Shiro go.  He shrinks from Keith’s vision until he’s gone, until there’s just stillness, nothingness.

When Lance comes, he already knows.  “You okay...?”  He asks hesitantly, eyes dim.

“This was a stupid idea.”

Lance looks up at him like a beaten puppy dog.  “...What was?”

“This.  Us.  I hate it.  I want it to go back to how it was.”

“Yeah,” Lance said, nodding slowly.  “I’ve been thinking about it too.  I think that’s a good idea...”

“Good.  Me too.  Me too.”

“I’m sorry, man,” Lance says, and he looks sad, like all this is his fault.  

Keith shakes his head, shoulders too tense to loosen.  “I’m sorry, too.”

He spends a few hours alone at school, just sitting in his quiet little corner.  When he finally manages to walk back home and open the door, the rooms are dark, quiet.  No one is home.  It’s quiet just like the corner by the wall at school, but it’s different.  It’s lonely.

When his dad does come back home from work, Keith doesn’t mention it.  Doesn’t say a thing.  If his dad notices Keith’s pale and quiet, he doesn’t say it aloud.

Shiro messages him that night with a simple question, short and sweet: “are you okay?”

Keith looks at it for a few moments and then clicks out of the window.  He goes to bed early and doesn’t set his alarm.  

He skips school.  

He doesn’t get out of bed all day.  Or the next.  Or the next.  His father goes to work early and comes home late.  The school calls their home and Keith deletes the messages.  His dad doesn’t know at first, until the school starts calling his work.  It’s been two weeks at that point.

“I’m sick,” Keith yells when his father starts giving him shit.  “Not that you’d know or care, since you’re _never around_.”

“I don’t understand what this is,” his father says, tossing a hand at Keith.  “What’s _wrong_?”  

But he doesn’t know.  Nothing helps.  Breaking up with Lance just made things worse.  Now he suffers completely alone.

He refuses to go to school and his dad has work, can’t stay behind, so he can’t force him.  Keith doesn’t even care.  He expected as much.

The doorbell rings, and he doesn’t care about that either.  He waits until it goes silent.

It rings again.  

And again.  

He growls- actually growls, and rips through the hallway to the door, ready to tear the thing off the frame.  “Lance!”  He screams.  “I swear to god -”

Only, when he swings the door wide, it’s not Lance.  It’s Shiro, a folder in the crook of his arm and surprise on his face.  It’s like he’s never been yelled at before.  He looks over Keith like he’s a ghost, not a person, but he quickly tries to shake the look away.

“Uh.  Hi.”  Shiro says softly.  “You’re okay...”

“I...”  He doesn't feel okay, so he doesn't confirm it.  It’s a shock to see Shiro though, so he lets his body move for him, opening the door wider without thinking.

Shiro walks in hesitantly and chooses Keith’s usual spot on the couch.  He looks around, taking in a deep breath as if he’s trying to memorize the place, before he lets his eyes fall back on Keith.

“What’s wrong?  Are you sick?”

Even Keith doesn’t know, but to say that would only bring more frustration, so he laughs bitterly, “Did you not see my mental breakdown at school?  I’m, uh, on a mental health break.”

“Ah...”  Shiro hums.  He looks downtrodden and sad, but in his eyes there is only concern for Keith.  “I brought your homework.  The office gave it to me to take to you.  You don’t need to do it now though, only if you feel like it.”

“Thanks,” Keith sniffs, kicking magazines off a messy table and picking up empty soda cans to give him some room.  “You can set it here.”

“Right.”

It’s awkward.  Silence hangs between them.  Shiro sits tall and stiff, his eyes slowly roaming around the room.  

Keith realizes, after all the years they’d known each other, that Shiro has never actually been inside of his house.  It’s weird.  Shiro’s been a constant in his life, and Keith’s never even invited him over.

Shiro says, “You didn’t answer me online.”

“No, I...  I haven’t really been on.”

Keith can’t even look at him.

Silence falls again, but Shiro tries to wrangle with it.  “You ran out of the rally the other day.  Everyone’s been worried about you.”

Keith falls into a chair and runs his fingers through his brow thoughtfully.  He’s not sure how much he wants to give up.  He doesn’t want to say anything about his weaknesses at all, but this is Shiro, and he owes him this much.  

He says, “The rally...  I’ve just been...a mess lately.  Lance was just trying to cheer me up and I just...lost it.  I should probably apologize to him.  I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“You haven’t talked to Lance since then?”  Shiro worries.

“No, we, uh, broke up...  I’ve been fucked up lately.  It’s not..  It’s just...my head.  I don’t know why.”

Shiro shifts, biting his lip as he thinks.  “...It’s a stressful time.  Graduation, then college.  It’s a lot.”

“ _You’re_ fine.”

“It’s a lot,” Shiro insists.  “And everyone’s going through different things.  I can help you if you need help...  Maybe we can see a counselor together, or...a doctor?  I’ll go with you.  I can drive you.”

“I know, Shiro.  I know you would help.”  But it doesn’t feel right.  It feels like too little too late or something, Keith doesn’t know.  It’s like they’re the perfect fit for each other, they are, but they’re off balance somehow, two planets never quite lining up.  The moon and the sun chasing each other through the sky, destined to be apart for eternity.  

Silence falls over them again, crushing.  

Keith doesn’t know what to say.  Keith knows he let Shiro down the second he accepted Lance’s suggestion to go out together.  Knows he crushed Shiro in the worst way, someone who was completely innocent and sweet and tried his best.  Keith feels absolutely wretched about it all the time and he knows he deserves that too.  He lets his head hang under the weight.

“Well, I...  I guess I’ll go,” Shiro says, standing.

“Thanks for the homework,” Keith murmurs.  “And for seeing if I’m alright.”

“Are you?”  Shiro asks, eyes tightening in sadness and worry.

Keith shrugs, still looking down.  “I’ll be fine.”

After a moment, Shiro says softly, “Call me.  For anything at all, whenever you want.  You have my number.”

Keith nods.  

Shiro’s already at the end of their driveway when Keith finally stands, swinging the screen door wide.  “I’m sorry,” he calls, and he means for everything.  For _everything_ .  “I’m really _really_ sorry.”

Shiro turns at the end of the driveway.  He stands there for a moment, as if considering.  Then, motion easy, he lifts his hands up and waves.  “Byyeee.”

Keith laughs, but it almost sounds like a sob.  He raises both hands in the air and swings them with energy he wasn’t sure he had.  “Bye, Shiro.”

He stares at his phone, but doesn't call. He's a coward.

 

When Keith finally gathers enough energy in his weary body and drags himself to school, Lance and Keith fall back into their friendship easily.  It was like it never really left, honestly, but things are a little different.  Keith’s not his old self anymore and he wonders if he’ll ever regain it back.  His childhood is gone and he is having a hard time coping, but he holds onto hope that things will get better.

They graduate.  Keith’s not sure how he manages it since he’s failed several of his classes, but he guesses the school is giving him the benefit of the doubt.  He wonders if Shiro talked to them.  Shiro is valedictorian, head of the entire class, and he makes a nice speech, looking picture perfect up on the stage, voice booming, smile wide.  

He’s earned it.  Keith claps loudly.  Shiro beams.  

It’s at grad night that Shiro seeks him out.  Keith’s on the balcony where he’s not supposed to be, sneaking a cigarette that he’s not supposed to be smoking.

The door behind Keith creaks open.  He turns, expecting a teacher, but it’s Shiro, laughing fondly.  “How’d I know you’d be here?”

“It’s loner central, that’s how.”

“The only place not busy,” Shiro nods.  “Not having fun in there?”

“There’s a hypnotist on the stage and they creep me out.  Besides...  I’m going to miss it here.  The last year’s been shit and all but, everything else...  I don’t know.  I wanted to just absorb it all in.  My last few hours here.”

Shiro leans against the railing beside Keith, looking out into the dark blue of night.  “I liked high school.”

Keith hums in agreement.  

“But college will bring a lot of new memories.  New friends, new adventures.  You’ll be brilliant, Keith.  I know you’ll be.”

“Yeah?”  Keith sighs, letting his cigarette drop.  He steps on it.  He’s not going to college, but Shiro doesn’t need to know that.  Doesn’t need to see what a failure he is.  “College doesn’t sound so great.  Everyone I’ve been so used to seeing on a daily basis, just scattered on the wind.  Everyone will be gone.  You’ll be gone.  I’ve grown up with you since we were half this size and then I just won’t see you again, maybe not for years.  It’s...weird.”

“It is weird,” Shiro says.  “We’ll still talk though.  I’ve got your number.  We can Facetime if you miss me too much.”

Keith laughs quietly.  “I’d like that.”

The wind is blowing softly and it’s late - nearly four in the morning -  but it isn't terribly cold.  It’s nice, just the two of them hanging out at school in the middle of the night.  It feels easy again, like their last few months of radio silence never happened.  Like Keith never hurt Shiro.  Like the both of them are just...comfortable together.

He wishes he could apologize somehow.  Send Shiro away with a bit of himself.

Keith sticks his hand into his pocket and fishes for something, finding a wrinkled piece of paper.  He smooths it over, putting up a finger when Shiro opens his mouth to ask what he’s doing.

“Watch,” he says.  

He begins to fold it carefully, sucking his bottom lip between his lip as he concentrates.

Shiro recognizes what he’s doing before he’s done.  He laughs softly, eyes crinkling at the corners.  

“Here,” Keith hums, holding it out in his hand.  It’s a paper crane.  He uncaps a red pen from his pocket and colors in the top of its head.  “That’s the Santa hat,” Keith points, nodding at his creation.  “It’s to remember me by.  When you go off to be a big doctor, we probably won’t get a lot of time to talk anymore, so...”

Shiro takes it carefully between his hands delicately, holding it like it’s an actual baby bird.  “I’ll always have time for you, Keith.  Thank you...  I’ll treasure it.”

“It’s - it’s not a _big deal._ I just...I’ll miss you,” Keith says, blushing red.  He means it.  It tugs at his heart as he realizes just how much he means it.  “I kinda miss you already,” he laughs softly in an attempt to alleviate the pain, but it doesn’t help.  He’s just sad.

Shiro breathes in sharply and holds his breath.  

“Keith?”  Shiro says, voice wobbling.

Keith looks over, wondering at the tone.  It doesn’t even sound like Shiro, voice too vulnerable and soft.

He doesn't have time to think about it before Shiro stammers, “I...um,” and that is the last thing Keith registers before Shiro leans down and kisses him.

Keith inhales sharply and forgets how to breathe.  

It's not his first kiss.  Or his second.  Or his third.

But he feels new at it again, like he’s never learned how, never knew how.  He feels like a fish out of water, gasping in air.  

His brain is short circuiting, malfunctioning, breaking apart into splintered bits.

His hand clutches to Shiro’s shirt desperately before he floats away.

Shiro leans back not a moment too soon.

“Sorry,” Shiro breathes out, eyes still clenched shut.  “I’m sorry.”

Keith stares blankly.  

He isn’t sure why, but suddenly, the feelings rising in his chest are ones of panic, of fear, of sickness.

It had felt _good_.  Too good.  It had been the stars and the moons and everything he had ever wanted.  He’s still dizzy from the kiss.

But Shiro is moving to another state.  He’s going to be gone, states away, and Keith will be here.  Shiro is valedictorian.  He’ll meet other people.  Better people.  He’s made for good things, brilliant things.

Keith just punched a hole through their bathroom wall this morning.  The plaster is still on the floor, in crumbly bits.  He cried himself to sleep the night before and still doesn’t understand why.  He’s not going to college at all, not even community college.  

Keith’s future is...shit.  It is bad and unhappy and he isn’t going to _go_ anywhere in life.  He already knows.  He’s already given up.  

Shiro can be a doctor.  Shiro can be an astronaut.  Shiro can be the fucking president.  He can be whatever he wants; he has a place at the top of the world.

Shiro shifts nervously. He doesn’t get it, doesn’t look up to see the expression on Keith’s face.  He presses his lips together hesitantly.  “...Um...  I...”  He takes in a deep breath and exhales it out, equally as shaky.  “You wouldn’t want to dance, would you...?”

Keith wants to be selfish.  He wants to forget everything and reach out.  He wants to just take his hand and let something new start between them.  A new dawn.  

But there’s something sick and sticky inside of Keith, a disease that spreads and drowns all who come near it.  Lance was dragged down by it for months and Keith can see the damage in him.  It’s still there, even now - the scars that Keith had put there.

He can’t steal Shiro’s future like that.  

Shiro can be whatever he wants, but only if he leaves Keith behind.

He takes one step back, pressing his lips together tightly to hold back the tears.  Then another.

He can’t breathe.  He hates this.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.  “I’m so sorry.”  

He bursts through the door and into the gym.  He runs down the staircase and pushes past Lance who whirls around, asking him what’s wrong.  He darts out of there and doesn’t turn back.  He never goes back to that damn school again.

 He doesn't see Shiro for another ten years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment if you're feeling it! I will love it forever and cherish it always.
> 
> Also, here, take this: [ TWEET TWEET! ](https://twitter.com/go__begreat)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> Hey there, before you read, I just wanted to say the beginning of this next chapter contains some heavy depressive themes. If it's something you're sensitive to, please proceed with caution. Feel free to skip until, "It’s a late night when it happens." 
> 
>  
> 
> Ahaha, so I know I said it'd only be two parts, but the second part turned out to be 27k words and I was like uhhhhhhhh...maybe not. Sorry. OTL  
> The rest is written, though, so I'll be posting it shortly. Needs to go through the beta process. Y'KNOW. 

 It’s been five years since then.  Everything’s the same in his life, only it’s different because everyone’s moved on without him.  He hasn’t heard from Shiro since that night.  

He had hoped that, with time, things would get easier and he could move on - become stronger, get inspired, see things from a new exciting perspective.  But he’s older now and he’s still “just Keith”.  He didn’t gain superpowers with age, he never saw the light.  There’s nothing new about him at all.  When he looks in the mirror, he thinks he mostly looks the same, only more tired with darker shadows beneath his eyes.

All the while, he sees online as his classmates graduate college with their Bachelor’s, going on for their Master’s, getting their dream jobs, starting to have children.  Building a family.  They’re different people now, matured into the images everyone expected of them.  They’re happy.

Lance calls from time to time and Keith listens half-heartedly.  Lance has had a girlfriend for the past year, which is a record for him, and they’re getting married.

He goes to Lance’s wedding because he doesn’t want to be a shitty person.  It's just how he expects it to be.  Lance is busy, as you are at your wedding, entertaining his hundreds of guests.  Keith is alone.  He sits in a corner by himself, head shoved into his phone, and somehow, everyone seems to think that means he wants to talk.  More than a few single bridesmaids and groomsmen make advances on him, too presumptuous.  They are all immediately and brutally shut down.  As the night progresses, so does Keith's bad mood and he finds himself becoming harsher and harsher.

It’s been five years, but he’s still raw.  The wound that had kissed his flesh during high school and blossomed at grad night doesn’t heal, just festers.  He doesn’t even question it now.  It’s found its home there, in his chest, burrowing deep down and refusing to vacate.  So many years he’s spent fighting with it but now he understands it’s a part of him. At least that much he’s accepted.

The night of Lance’s wedding, he goes home, still in his suit, tie hanging from his neck loosely.  He thinks of getting drunk - devouring bottle after bottle until he can’t remember his name anymore, but he knows that won’t help anything and he’s trying.  He wants to try.

He sits at his computer in the dark, rubbing his hand across his face roughly.  

He has this horrible feeling inside his chest, one that keeps screaming at him that he wants to go home, but he doesn’t know where home is.  This is as good as it gets, but it’s just not good enough.  His heart cries for more.

He's so lonely.

He thinks, briefly, of calling his dad.  They haven't talked in months, maybe a year.  Keith's answering machine is full of his messages, angry, at first, and then sad.  Lately, his calls haven't been coming at all.  Keith can't blame him, but somehow it tears the void in his chest a bit wider. 

It’s his hands that move for him, floating to the computer and turning it on.  He logs into Facebook, knows it’s dangerous what he’s doing, knows it’s going to crush him, but he can’t stop himself.

Images of his old friends from high school are at the top of the screen.  Their hair is different, or they’ve gained weight, or they’ve lost it.  There are pictures of babies he doesn’t recognize.  Partners from other corners of the world that he doesn’t know.  

He inhales deeply and tries not to think about it.  

He closes his eyes and types in Shiro’s name.

Maybe if he messages him and explains everything, it’ll alleviate the guilt.  Just one message.  He can handle that.  Maybe it will help them both and Keith can move on with his life.  Or maybe, better yet, they can become friends again. Keith could really use a friend right now.

And oh, god.  Shiro’s picture blares across the screen.  There he is.  

He was gorgeous as a child and god-like as a high schooler.  As an adult, he’s more, so much more.  He’s the manifestation of everything Keith’s ever wanted, ever needed, put into one vessel.  

Shiro.

His smile is the same as always, but it hits Keith in the heart harder than he feared it would.  He’s so happy.  So damn happy.  His spirit just shines out of him.  Keith misses him so damn much.

His finger grazes the computer screen, reaching for him, but he only feels the cold of the glass.

God, he misses him.  

A message.  One message.

Keith tries to remember how to breathe as he grabs for his mouse and aims to click on Shiro’s name.  

Takashi Shirogane.

Keith’s never called him Takashi.  It’s always just been Shiro.  Not that Shiro has ever been anything close to “just Shiro”.  

He’s nervous and his focus isn’t quite there, so he misses and clicks on the image instead of his name.

It expands across the screen.

The air is sucked from Keith’s lung as he stares.

He realizes, with a horrible sinking feeling, that his one message is completely out of the question.

Standing next to Shiro, arm looped through his, fingers clinging to him tightly, is a woman.  She’s beautiful.  

They’re walking down the aisle together.  She’s in a wedding dress.  Shiro is in a tuxedo.  

They’re married.

Keith stares.  He stares for a long time, eyes just stuck on the screen, unmoving.  He doesn’t even blink, he just... looks.

They’re happy.

He can see that.

They look...so...beautiful.

His breath catches in his throat.

No.

_No._

“Be happy for them,” he commands himself.  He waits to feel it, even a sliver of it, but it doesn’t come.  He shakes his head roughly, clutches to the desk in front of him.  

“Be happy _for him_ ,” he whispers harshly through gritted teeth.  The table cracks beneath his grip.

No.  He just can’t.  

He tries not to think it, he tries, but it’s too late.  Thoughts crash over him like a tidal wave and he’s dragged under the surface, the shore slipping away from him.

Shiro used to be his.

All he had to do was say ‘yes’.  That was all.  One word.  He probably could’ve even just fucking texted it or nodded or...anything.  But no, he turned it away. Not once, not twice - so many times.

This picture of them walking down the aisle, hand in hand, faces both bleeding with trust...that could’ve been him.  He could've been the one at Shiro's side, Shiro’s calloused hand gently holding his, the smooth heavy weight on his finger from a ring that says, “Shiro’s mine and I am his”, their friends all around them tossing rose petals into the air.  They could've been happy.

He closes his eyes and hangs his head. “Don't regret it now, Keith,” he demands.

He did this for a reason.  He wanted this.  He wanted Shiro to find this happiness, to get married, have children, get a good career.  

And now he has it.

It’s good.

This is a good thing.  Really.

Keith couldn’t have asked for a happier path for Shiro.  Keith had fought for him to have a chance at this, after all.

Keith doesn’t cry.

He won’t cry.

He doesn’t need to.  He’s fine.  He’s totally fine.

He can keep it together.  He can keep it together.  

It’s just a picture.

He hasn’t even talked to Shiro in years.

It’s fine.

He doesn’t cry.

He won’t.

He wanted this.

He won’t.

He loved Shiro and wanted him to be happy.

And now he is.

It's good.

He loves him.

He loved him.

He's happy.

It kills him.

It hits him like a brick wall and does not relent.  

Sickness rises up inside of him and he throws up in the trash bin beside himself.  But emptying his stomach brings no relief.  When he has nothing left inside of himself to throw up, he dry heaves and chokes over the trash until his throat’s raw, head limp and back sore.

It’s probably not even all about Shiro, it’s about so many different things that have attacked him for years now, pecking at his armor that’s already sick with his shitty brand of mental health, whittling away second after second for so long, and Shiro is just the final nail in the coffin.   Shiro is a heavy blow to the most vulnerable cavity in his chest.

But it doesn’t even matter what it’s about.  All he knows is it’s bad again.  Everything’s bad again.  He doesn’t even have the energy to call in sick for work.  He doesn’t have the energy to grab a bottle of sleeping pills to find relief.  He doesn't clean the mess up in his trash. He just curls up in his bed, pulls the blankets over himself, and rots in his own filth.  He doesn’t care what happens to himself, he just wants to keep rotting until there’s nothing left.  The bugs can have him.  The earth can have him.  He doesn’t care.  

He stays like that for a long time.  The sun sets and rises and sets and rises and he's still there, going in and out of consciousness like a haze.

It’s days before anyone comes.  He doesn’t even hear the pounding on his door, his name being shouted through the windows.  He’s bundled up in his bed, with his suit and tie still on, crumpled and soiled with his own sick. He hasn't showered since Lance’s wedding. He hasn't eaten. He hasn't even been able to cry; he's just a void.  This is “just Keith” at his rotted core.

It’s not until there are hands on his shoulders that he startles out of his limbo.  For one wild moment, he thinks it’s Shiro and that everything he’d been thinking about was just a horrible nightmare. And he's home, they're finally home.  He can breathe again.

He reaches up.

But no.  

No.  

His hand stops mid-air as his brain catches up.

It’s not Shiro.  It’s his father and he’s asking that same question again, but in his eyes this time, as he cries.

Whatever life Keith has left in him is drained as he looks up into his father’s sobbing face.  He looks horrible.

“God, Keith,” his dad whispers.  Tears are falling from his cheeks onto Keith’s.  “What’s wrong?   _What’s wrong_?”

There isn’t an answer for it.  Keith is just broken.  

But his dad is there, holding Keith’s small body in his arms, bringing with him the nostalgic scent of his childhood.  

Keith’s fingers clutch to his dad’s shirt.  Gently, at first, and then tighter, desperately, as if his life depends on it.  He pulls his dad closer, shoving his face into his stomach, seeking the warmth of another human being.  It’s been so long since he’s been close to anyone that he’d forgotten what it’s like.  

He finally cries.  Terrible ugly sobs that tear out of his core.  He just lets everything go.  He doesn’t even know how long.  He cries until there isn’t a shred of strength left in him and his body passes out.  Even then, he just floats in numb darkness.

It doesn’t really help.

 

His dad is scared and convinces Keith to move back in with him.  He says it's temporary until Keith gets better. Keith feels like a shell and has no reason to argue.

He takes a bit of time off from work, but even back at home, in the house he grew up in, he hardly finds comfort.  He just stares at the TV most of the time, lifeless, wrapped in blankets.  He doesn't care if he dies. He's done with this world. He eats if his dad forces him to but that's about all he can do.  He feels like they're just prolonging the inevitable.

His dad sits him down to talk.

“I’m worried,” he says, blunt.  Keith can tell he’s gone over these lines a hundred times already by the way he delivers them.  They’re matter-of-fact, like he’s written them all out and memorized them.  He’s looking at Keith’s face as he talks, something he's never done.  Leaning forward and reaching for his hand, also something he’s never done.  

Keith lets him.  His dad squeezes his fingers between his, tightly, as if he’s afraid he’ll float away.  He takes in a deep steadying breath.  

“I know you’ve been suffering silently.  Ever since you were little, you've always fought to be strong.  I think I forgot how young you were when your mother died.  I took your strength for granted and wasn't there for you when I should've been.

"When I saw you there, in your bed...  I really thought...  I thought I'd lost you too. I thought you were dead.  You were so still.  And small.  I thought I'd have to bury you alongside your mother and...and your brother.  I’m so sorry.  This is all my fault.  All these years and I couldn’t see what I had right in front of me...  I've been a horrible father.  The blame is all on me, the fault is all mine.  I should've been there for you since you were a boy and I wasn't.  Be angry at me if you want, but please, I won’t be able to take it if I lose you too.  Let me know what I can do to help you and I’ll do it.  I want to earn your trust.  I want us to be able to talk.  I want to be the father you deserve.”

His father has never said such things to him or looked at him like he was something precious.  He has always looked beyond, like he was thinking of the ones they’ve lost, not seeing Keith, who has always been right there.  

The change strikes a chord in Keith.  After high school, Keith didn’t even say goodbye before kicking the door open and leaving.  His dad should be angry, but he’s not.  He’s begging to help, begging Keith to stay.

He wants to stay. He needs to try.

It doesn’t happen all at once; it’s a journey.  But Keith starts eating better.  He starts working out.  He does everything his doctors tell him to do and more.  He takes the medication.  He meditates.  Does yoga.  He vents his emotions out through the punching bag in his father’s garage, beating it until his knuckles are bloodied.  

He guesses it helps.  His father tells him every morning how much better he looks.  His father’s smiling again and not watching Keith like he thinks he's going to disappear in a puff of smoke at any moment.  

Keith returns to his job at the local cafe.  He can’t manage his customer service smile, but he’s good enough at everything else for it to not be a problem.  He doesn’t think he knows how to smile anymore anyway.  He’s no longer bitter about not going to college and getting a good job.  He’s just asking to make it through another day where he doesn’t curl up into a ball and feel that blank merciless void in his chest.  

Sometimes things get bad again, but it’s not like before.  He doesn’t sink that far down again.  Most days are fine.

Another five years of most of his days being fine pass by.  He doesn’t check his social media often.  Back when he did, he had been bright and happy and looking forward to chatting with his friends.  Now, he barely even talks to Lance anymore.

Lance has a kid now.  She’s cute.  Keith’s seen a picture of her once maybe.  He can’t remember if he replied or not.  

But when he logs onto Facebook, half surprised it’s still there, he sees a little red notification.  

Shiro.

It’s from Shiro.  

It’s from months ago.

The display pic has changed and it’s a picture of a dog.  A dog is safe.  A dog doesn’t rip Keith apart from the inside out.  

He sniffs, still afraid to proceed further.  If he does, it could be bad.  If it’s bad...

He looks toward the door, as if going to his father and asking him to check what this message says is something anyone should even consider.  He’s an adult, an _adult_.  But he does consider it.  

But what if it’s private?  What if Shiro needs help and Keith betrays his trust by getting his dad to read his message, the fucking coward that he is.

Keith sighs and clicks the message.  

_Hey, Keith.  Long time, huh?  How’ve you been?  Class reunion’s coming up soon.  Can’t believe it, can you?  I hope to see you there.  Shiro._

He reads it over once.  Then twice.  Then another time.  His fingers start to shake, so he closes the message and turns from the screen.

God.  

He definitely can’t go.

 

Lance calls a few days later.  “I’ll pick you up,” is the first thing he says.

“Don’t.  I’m not going.”

Lance sighs deep and heavy.  “Come on, man.  Everyone will want to see you.  It doesn’t matter if you don’t have a partner and kids, you know.  We’re still in our twenties and all.”

Keith shrugs.  “I’m not going.”

A heavy silence.  “...This isn’t about Shiro...is it?”

Keith’s next inhale is sharp and pained, like he just got physically stabbed through the hand.  

“I saw a while back ago that he got married.  You saw too, didn’t you?  You went quiet after that.”

“ _Don’t._ ”  Keith’s voice is trembling.  He can’t see in front of him, he’s so mad.  He doesn’t even know why.

“He’s not married anymore, you know.  They got divorced a few years back. He’s a doctor now, did you know?  He looks good.”

“Lance, for the love of god...  I can’t.  I just can’t.”

“...It really messed you up, didn’t it?”

“I fucked up everything, okay?  Everything.”

“So...why don’t you fix it?  I’m sure he’d want to see you again.”

Keith just closes his eyes.

“...I think it’d be a good idea, Keith.  He was head over heels for you for so long....and...so were you.  For him.”  He’s silent for a while.  “...I’m sorry I got in the way of that. I was jealous and I thought...”

Keith lets out a long slow exhale, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “No, Lance, it wasn’t you.  I was in the relationship too, you know. I knew what I was doing.”

“Did you?  I think it's time you did something good for yourself for once.  Come with me.  I’ll drive.  I’ll drop you off.  Hell, I’ll buy you some dinner.  Just come.”

Keith presses his lips together tightly.  He thinks about it, actually thinks about it in an honest way.  

But his heart has been stretched thin after so long and he can’t muster the strength.  He’s just surviving on autopilot right now.  That’s all that’s left of him.  Maybe one day he’ll get better, but he’s not holding his breath.  He’s just trying not to get hurt anymore.  It’s all he can do.

He shakes his head again.  “I’m sorry, Lance, I am.  But I won’t go.  You can’t convince me.  See you.”

“Keith, _wait_ -”

He hangs up and mutes his phone.  

He just...doesn’t want to think about this anymore.  It’s just another normal day, nothing going on.  Normal.  He wants it to feel normal.  

He goes to work, deals with people for an entire shift, gets home, falls into fitful sleep, wakes up, starts the cycle all over again.

One thing that’s nice about cycles is that Keith knows what to expect out of his day.  It keeps his blood pressure ideal and his pulse from thumping all over the place.  It keeps him from ripping his apron off, darting to the bathroom, and throwing up in the toilet because he's  _scared_  and it throws his body all out of whack.  It’s a failing vessel, has been for a long time.  His mind is poisoning it and won’t quit.  Medication only does so much.

Mention of the reunion has made Keith aware again of how much of his life he’s wasted and how much he’ll probably continue to waste, and then he’ll just be dead.  And that’ll be the end of Keith’s pathetic miserable life.  He had so potential and now it's gone.

His boss asks him what’s wrong at work almost every day again, giving him that doubtful look that makes him think she’ll be calling his father, like he’s still a little boy who can’t look after himself and not a fucking 26-year-old.  He can’t even argue it.  It's pathetic really.

He looks into the mirror, but he can’t see what’s wrong with his face.  It’s still “just Keith” staring back.

Time goes by and the monotony of life lets him forget.  It eases the pain in his heart and he continues the cycle as dully as possible.  

 

It’s a late night when it happens.  It’s near closing, and no one ever really shows up around that time.  Keith is shift manager and he hates seeing his fellow employees stand around twiddling their thumbs, so he lets them all go home.  If there happens to be that one person who comes in, he can handle it himself, but there probably won’t be, so he grabs a stool and his phone, reading through shitty news articles that are all shrieking “war!” and “death!” at him.  

He sighs, puts his phone away, and rubs his hand over his face as the front door chimes.  Just his luck.  Who the hell comes in this late anyway?

“Welcome in,” he says wearily, slipping off the stool and walking to the register.  “What can I get for you to...night...?”  He stops, finger frozen in place over the screen.

He thinks he might be having another hallucination like that day when his father came into his room, hovering over him.

He hadn't thought he was that bad again but maybe he is.

It looks like Shiro.  He’s taller somehow, calmer, with a more sturdy air about him, but it looks like him.   _Maybe it’s Ryou,_ Keith thinks, but then he knows it’s not.  Ryou lives in Japan again.  

And besides, Ryou would never look at him like...like...

Keith forces his eyes down on the desk and taps his fingers nervously against the wood.  “U-um...  What can I...  What would you like?”

“Keith?”  The man says in surprise, and it’s Shiro.  It’s definitely Shiro.  His voice, gone from Keith’s life for so long, washes over him like a wave, drowning his senses and knocking his soul right out of his chest for a moment.  

He’s winded, mind a haze.  He forces out a small, “hi...”  He knows it’s weird he’s not looking at Shiro, but he can’t manage it.  His eyes flicker up for a moment and then they’re back down again.

“Wow,” Shiro says, voice going quiet as if he understands the situation and he doesn’t want to scare Keith off like a fawn in the wild.  “It is you.  You look...different.”

Yeah, he’s all bones with paper-white skin and hideous dark circles under his eyes.

“You look good,” Shiro says instead.

Keith laughs a little at his kindness.  He pulls his eyes up to Shiro’s face, sees his eyes are still kind, open, and has more success holding his gaze.  “Well, you look...amazing.  How have you been?”

Shiro grins.  “Good.  How have you been?”

“Uh...”  He laughs again, awkward.  “Good.”

“Yeah?”  He lights up like the sun.  “Glad to hear it...”  Keith hears the relief in his voice, the genuine care that only Shiro can give.  It’s different actually hearing it again.  All his feelings of fondness come back anew, reviving his darkened heart.

Keith clears his throat. Rocks on his feet. “Last I heard, you’d moved to another state.  What has you here?”

Shiro smiles fondly like Keith said something funny.  “Well, the reunion for one.  You going?”

“Oh.  Oh, right, of course.  Uh.  No, I don’t think I will be.”

“No?  Everyone’s been wondering about you.  You’ve been so mysterious; you’re completely absent on any social media.  I know.  I’ve looked.  You haven't posted art in years.  Your Facebook still has the same display pic from high school.”

Keith snorts, a ghost of a smile trying to start up on his face.  He hasn’t felt that in so long.  It’s awkward and weird on his cheeks.  He rubs at the feeling.  “Yeah, I, uh, don't really draw anymore. And I don’t really go on the internet much either.  Always bad news, you know?”

“Tell me about it...  So, where do you live now?  Have a boyfriend?”

“Uh,” Keith pushes out breathlessly.  “I, um, I had moved out for awhile, but...”  

_I can’t take care of myself and am a total loser_ doesn’t sound like something Keith wants to admit to a fresh-faced doctor who looks too beautiful to be part of this world.

He clears his throat and tries again.  “No.  No, it’s just me.  My dad and me. In that same court, as always...”

Shiro pauses, like it was something he hadn’t expected to hear and is, therefore, unprepared to answer.  

Keith tries to spare him.  “It’s okay.  My dad hates to live alone and, apparently, so do I, so it’s just how it is.  Anyway, you.  Tell me about you.  I heard you got married.”

“You did?”  Shiro looks a bit surprised.  Off his game.  His bright smile is gone from his mouth and eyes; he just looks uncertain, confused, out of place.

Keith can see, behind Shiro, as a car drives by.  It’s past closing time now.  Shiro’s one thing, some random dipshit is another, so he holds up one finger as he goes around the counter.  “I’m sorry.  Just a second.  People always try to sneak in past closing hours and it drives me nuts.”  He flips the sign, locks the door, and turns off the main lights.  He goes to the blinds, shuts them tightly, then returns to his place behind the counter.  

The lighting is warmer now that the main lights are off and it’s comforting.  Keith can feel himself loosen as he settles onto his stool.

“God, I’m sorry,” Shiro says, looking at the clock.  “I had no idea it’s this late.  I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Nah, don’t worry.  My dad’s got work late tonight, so no one’s home right now anyway.  I hate going back to silence.  Stay.”

Shiro watches him.  Really watches him, beautiful grey eyes following his every move like he means something.  Attentive.

“You okay?”  Shiro says, but then cringes almost immediately.  “I mean, of course you’re _okay_ , but just...”  He hesitates.  Keith can see it.  Keith can see the moment that Shiro sees he can see and he cringes even more.   “I just mean...how have you been?”

Keith bites the inside of his cheek.  Can he do it?  

No.  No, he can’t.

He lies blatantly: “Fine.  Anyway, before I have to shut everything off, you want anything?  It’s on the house today so choose whatever.”

“What?  You don’t have to do that.  I can pay.”

“It’s not every day I get to see my childhood friend,” Keith says, voice going soft.  God. He just said that.  He pats the counter to break up the mood.  “Let me think.  Large hot chocolate.  Marshmallows.  Extra peppermint candies crushed on top.  Tell me if I’m wrong.”

Shiro laughs.  “You remember?”

“Of course I do,” he murmurs, turning to grab a mug.  “You were such a diva about it.”

“Me?”  Shiro laughs again.  “I guess I was.”

“Have your tastes changed since then?  It has been awhile.”

“No, hot chocolate sounds amazing.  I was just coming out to kill some time honestly.  I’m the same way - I hate staying in an empty house.

“My grandfather’s sick.  He’s in the hospital right now, so I’m staying here for awhile to take care of everything.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Keith says.  He knows how much Shiro loves his grandfather.  He raised him and Shiro doesn’t have a lot of family left.  It seems cruel how the world works.

“Me too.  Funny though, the reunion just happened to line up with it all.  You’re really not going?”

Keith adds an extra candy cane into Shiro’s drink and hands it over.  Shiro pulls over a stool from the bar and sits.  “Nope.  The only person who will be there that I even care about is Lance and I hear enough from him over the phone.”

“ _I’ll_ be there,” Shiro says.

Keith blinks up in surprise.  It’s bold.  He’s not used to it.

Shiro’s blushing though.  That he’s used to.  “Uh, uh, the hot chocolate...it’s really good.”  He coughs into his hand and says, “How _is_ Lance?”

Keith leans in, work duties completely forgotten.  “Happily married.  He has a little girl now with another on the way.”

“Wow, way to go Lance.”

“Yeah, he’s doing well.  His wife’s really pretty.  I think I have a picture.”  He takes his phone from his back pocket and scrolls through his messages with Lance.  He holds his phone out for Shiro to see.

He leans in, eyes widening.  “Oh, wow.  She looks like a model.”

“Right?”  Keith finds himself laughing.  It flutters weirdly in his lungs.  “I don’t know how he does it.  He’s like the world’s luckiest idiot or something.”

“I always thought that ever since we were younger,” Shiro says, looking from the image back to Keith.  “I mean, he managed to date you, after all.”

The phone slips from Keith’s hands and Shiro jerks, the hot chocolate splashing.

“Oh,” Shiro exhales, looking around for napkins.  “I’m sorry.  I don't know why I said that.  That was totally inappropriate.”

“N-no, it’s...fine.”

They settle back into their places awkwardly.  Keith wipes up the mess and then keeps the towel in his hands, fiddling with it.  

Shiro says, “He’s lucky.  His family looks amazing.”

“...Yeah...”  He brushes a stray hair behind his ear as he licks his lips.  “You, uh, do you have any kids?”

Shiro hums under his breath.  “No.  We were going to, but it...didn’t work out.”

“I’m sorry, Shiro.”  He is.  He wanted this for Shiro - a perfect partner, perfect kids, perfect job, perfect life.  He still wants it for him.  Still believes he can get it.

“You know, it’s fine.  I don’t regret it.  I learned more about myself and what I want out of life.  The decision was hard, it was, but it’s for the best for both of us.  It really ended as well as these sorts of things can so I have no reason to complain.”

“...Why’d you break up?”

Shiro dips his candy cane into his hot chocolate and swirls it around before taking a sip.  “I know everyone says this, but we just...wanted different things from life.  She’s very dedicated to her work.  She’s a doctor.  She loves it.  I managed a few years and I thought I could do it at first, but...it’s just not for me.  Funny to figure that out now, huh?  Almost ten years later.  A waste of valuable time, she says.”

Keith sighs.  He had wanted that for Shiro too.  It hurts to know that also didn’t work out.  

“She thought I was crazy when I said I wanted to open up a flower shop.”

Keith chokes.  “ _What_?”

Shiro grimaces.  “I know, I know.  It does seem like such a waste.  I just...I guess I’m just searching for my kind of peace, you know?"

Keith leans forward deeper, brow furrowed, trying to understand.  "You hated being a doctor?"

"Ah, I dunno...  I just -  I thought, being a doctor, I could help people.  That's what I set out to do.  I thought it'd be simple and straight-forward.  Someone's sick, they come in for help, you fix their problem, and they go home.  But it's funny, most of the people I see don’t want to get better.  You try to help them and they argue and fight you the entire way and you have to see them fall into this pit and..."  He heaves a heavy sigh.  "It's... _hard_.  My colleagues, they’re fine with handing pills out and moving onto the next patient, but I...  I just wanted to help everyone completely.  Wholly.  This isn’t it.  This isn’t the way.  Feeding these addictions...treating people like robots on a conveyor belt.”  Shiro sighs, resting his head in his hands.  “My wife...my ex.  She doesn’t understand.  This is what she’s worked for all her life, to give it up now is ludicrous to her.  But for me, it’s pure frustration.  I don’t know what to do.  I just need a break from it all to figure myself out.  So that’s why I’m here.”

Keith nods thoughtfully.  “You know...I can see you in a flower shop honestly.”

The corner of Shiro’s lip tugs up.  “Yeah?”

“You’d be good at it.”  Keith thinks of the handcrafted rose that’s still in his dresser back at home, of the freshly cut flowers on the box Shiro had given him on Valentine's day, presented professionally even then. “I think you should do what makes you happy.  I mean that.”

“Yeah?”  Shiro murmurs, watching Keith with a warm look on his face.

Shiro’s finished his hot chocolate.  He’s staring fondly at Keith when Keith’s phone goes off.  

He looks up at the time and frowns.  “Oh, wow, where'd the time go?  It’s my dad.  I’d better get this.”  

He takes a few steps from the counter like that’ll give him real privacy and answers.  “Hey.  Sorry, I got caught up at work.  ...Calm down.  No, you don’t have to come pick me up, I can drive myself.  ...Yeah, I’m okay to drive, I swear.”  He pauses, brow divoting.  “My manager said _what_?  ...I really hate her sometimes.  I don’t know what she’s talking about.  It’s not bad. It’s just...an old friend came by and we got stuck talking.  That’s all.  ...Yeah, yeah, it’s Shiro.  I know, I know.  Bye.”

Keith heaves out a huge sigh.  Just what he wanted.  Figures.  

“Everything alright?”  Shiro asks, head tilted in concern.

He turns around again, face pinched.  “He...worries...”

Shiro just smiles easily.  “Parents for you.  It’s how they show their love.”

Keith huffs a bitter laugh.  “Right.  I’d better go, though.”

Shiro hums, looking down.  He gathers this coat, but his eyes are distant, thoughtful.  “There’s a lot I wanted to talk with you about.  It’s been so long.”

“It really has...”  Keith says.  He finds himself wishing for more time.  He usually hates talking, but it’s different with Shiro.  He really doesn’t want to go.  “I’m sorry I never responded online.  I swear I’ll get better at it.  I just...  It’s been rough.  Since high school.  I, uh, never really found anything I loved or had any sort of epiphany, you know?  As you can see, I...never really got anywhere.”

“Everyone leads different lives, Keith,” Shiro says easily, voice clear of judgment.  “There’s no shame in that; there’s no need to hide. No way is any better than the other.  And besides, this isn’t the end of the game.  There are so many different paths ahead of us that we can choose to walk when we’re ready.”

“I guess.  I just...”  He sighs. “I’m glad we got to talk again finally,” he says.  

“You should come to the reunion.  I’d really like to talk with you more,” Shiro says.  He walks to the door and leans against it, watching Keith with those grey eyes of his.  There are no ulterior motives behind them, just a genuine wish to have more time with Keith.  It’s nice.

He’s smiling as he entices in a sing-song voice,  “I can pick you up.”

Keith laughs aloud, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth.  He remembers his earlier adamance about not wanting to go but can’t remember why he’d been so sure he’ll hate it.  Shiro will be there.  

For some reason, this suddenly feels like something he’s got to do.  Like he’s being offered his last chance.  

He nods slowly, a warm glow flickering in his chest.  “Sure,” he says.  It feels right.  He looks Shiro in the eyes.  “Yeah.  I’ll go.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

The morning of the reunion, Keith makes sure not to turn on his alarm.  He wants to sleep through as much of the day as he can so he won’t have to suffer nervously through it.  It sort of works, but when he wakes, it’s past noon and he’s groggy and sore from fitful slumber.  What’s new?  

He looks over at the windowsill.  When he had left for his own apartment, his father had kept his room empty and untouched.  Coming back those years ago, Keith hasn't given it much attention.  It's just a room.  Changes since then have been minimal.  Even still, somehow it’s almost a bit of a surprise when he realizes that small little painted lion is still there, bathing in the sun on the windowsill.

It’s not sun-bleached.  It’s not old and battered.  It looks new as the day Keith got it, the day Matt had told him off.  Keith taps its head and it bobs up and down, nodding at him.  

He drinks before he goes.  Not too much.  He doesn’t want to make a complete idiot of himself, but he drinks enough where he doesn’t feel like he’ll need to sit and shove his head between his knees as he hyperventilates.  

Shiro pulls up a bit too soon for Keith’s nerves, driving in a car that’s too nice for Keith to think about.  The sun that had greeted him in the morning has darkened with his mood and it’s starting to rain hard.

“I might throw up in your car,” Keith warns the moment Shiro steps onto their porch, grinning.

“Oh,” Shiro says in surprise and then waves as Keith’s dad makes an appearance.  “Hello, Mr. Kogane.”

“Hi, Shiro.  Mind if we have a chat?”

“ _What_ ?”  Keith basically squeaks, whirling around.  “What _for_?”

“Just wanna talk.”

Keith is already pushing Shiro out from under the porch and back to the car.  “No. _No, no._  Shiro and I are going.  Bye.”

“Keith, wait.”

Keith hangs on the door handle, glaring his dad down wearily.  Shiro looks between them confused, but his smile is still polite.

“I’m just worried about your health,” his dad says.

“I appreciate it.  We’re good though.  I’ll be fine, I swear.  Shiro’s a good friend.”

His dad lets his eyes fall over to Shiro, worry crossing his face like Shiro is exactly the reason he’s so worried.  He walks up to Shiro and pats him on the shoulder, looking him in the eye.  “Look after him, will you?”

“God,” Keith groans.  “I’m not five anymore.  Jesus.”

Now, Shiro is really confused.  He looks over at Keith with so many questions in his eyes before tossing his gaze back to Keith’s dad.  “Of course.”

They get in the car and he drives out of the court.  The interior is just as nice as the exterior and Keith finds himself scared to touch anything, even the seatbelt.  

“I’m sorry, I’m getting this all wet...”

“Don’t worry about it,” Shiro says easily, reaching behind the seat and pulling out a small towel.  He tosses it to Keith.  “Don't worry, it’s clean.  I have a few in here in case I work out.  Rarely ever get the time I want for it though.”

Keith hums, staring down at it.  Gym towel.  Shiro’s gym towel.

Shiro clears his throat and begins hesitantly, “Should I not ask what he was talking about?  Are you sick...?”

“Oh...”  Keith grumbles, patting himself dry.  “He’s just...overprotective.”

Shiro hums, but his face is discontent with that answer.

Keith sighs, pressing his fingers into his eyes.  “It’s...pathetic.  And lame.  And...I really don’t want to tell you.”

Shiro immediately opens his mouth to backtrack.

“But I mean, you’ve already seen what an explosive mess I’ve made of my life, so...how much worse can it get?”  He laughs, but Shiro doesn’t.

Shiro says, gently, “Keith...  Explosive mess?  I’ve never once thought that.  Why would you believe that?”  His tone isn’t accusatory, only worried, and it almost makes it worse.

Keith just groans out, “I mean, you probably could already have guessed, but...ugh, I have depression.”  He scratches the back of his head roughly and grimaces.  “It can get...bad.  I mean, it was shit in high school, but it’s evolved into something else.  It’s like a damn switch sometimes.  Remember I said I lived alone for awhile?  There was this one time I didn’t get out of bed for like...weeks probably.  I probably would’ve stayed there until I died, but when I started missing shifts, my manager called my father and he came and...  Well.  He found me there and...he hasn’t really been the same since then.  He worries.  What with my mom and _brother_.  He doesn’t want to be alone, I don’t think.”

“Jesus, Keith...”  Shiro whispers.  Keith doesn’t look at his face, just spreads out his hand and inspects his fingers for a distraction.

“I know.  Believe me, I do.  I’ve been seeing doctors and taking shit for it and I’ve been better lately, but...I don’t know.  He thinks every little thing will set me off the edge.  Who knows.  Maybe it will.”  He coughs.  “Sorry, that’s...  Anyway.  Looking forward to the reunion?”  He says it cheerfully in an attempt to lighten the mood.  It’s such a contrast to his earlier tone it’s comical.

It makes Shiro breathe out a laugh, though the air of concern is still heavy in the car.  “Can I help?  I _am_ a doctor.”

Keith smiles into his hand.  “A florist at heart though.”

“Well, I’ve heard lavender can be very beneficial for depression.  Chamomile.  I can grow those for you.”

Keith laughs.  “A herbalist too?  It’s my lucky day.  But seriously, I’m okay right now.  Thanks though.  It means a lot to hear you ask.”

“I’m serious, you know,” Shiro hums.

Keith chuckles again, smiling into his hand.  “Thanks, Shiro.”

The highway has been empty and quiet for most of the ride, but the deep darkness around them is split by the stars hanging in the night sky and it doesn’t feel lonely at all.

They’re pulling into the hotel parking lot and Keith’s almost disappointed.  He likes this.  He feels vulnerable and raw talking about these sort of things, like he always does, even with his therapists, but he’s with a person he trusts now.  It’s different.  It’s healing somehow.

Shiro taps the steering wheel as he scans the row of cars and sighs.  “You would never guess how many times I thought that I should get in touch with you...  But I never did.  I was...stupid.  Now I wish I had...”

“Shiro.  Don’t.  It’s fine.  It’s just a thing that needs fixing, that’s all.  Like a broken foot or something.  I’m still here, right?”

“You are,” he says quietly.  He pulls into an empty spot and turns the engine off, but he doesn’t make a move to unbuckle his seatbelt.  “I wish I could’ve helped.  I’m sorry, Keith.  I should’ve been there.”

“You don’t -”

“We were friends, right?”  Shiro says.  

The sun has set but Keith can see the outline of Shiro’s face, illuminated around the edges with gold by the street lamps.  He’s so different.  It’s so surreal to be sitting in the same car with him, like sitting with your favorite character in a book you once read about.  But his eyes are the same, wide and innocent and attentive.  

Rain is pattering softly against the dashboard and light shines in from the hotel, inviting them in, but neither of them move.

Friends.  In a world where Keith feels like he doesn’t know the answer to anything, this question is easy for him.  “We _are_ friends,” Keith corrects.

“I should’ve been there.”  He shifts, taking the keys from the ignition and shoving them into his pocket.  There’s a darkness in Shiro’s eyes that Keith picks out, and that’s new.  Brooding.  “Next time, I will be.”

Keith swallows.  “...Okay.”

There’s a seriousness in the air that’s almost harsh.  It makes it hard to talk.  But suddenly, Shiro’s smiling even if it’s a little pained in the eyes, a small chuckle filling the silence.  “Let’s just hope there won’t be a next time though.”

“You and me both,” Keith hums.

“Sorry.  I don’t mean to drag this on.  I just...  I want you to know that even if I’m gone somewhere, I’m always going to be there for you, okay?  Always.  If I’m off in Peru or living in a submarine beneath the surface or adopting twenty kids or something, call me anyway.  Anything you want to ask of me, I want you to ask of me.  Got it?  Even if you think it’s ‘not that bad’ or something you can handle on your own...  You’re special to me.  And I’m here for you, okay?”

Keith smiles.  “Got it.  You too.  I don’t have a PhD or anything, but I can make a pretty nice coffee.  That can heal some wounds.”

Shiro laughs.  “And your hot chocolate is the best, hands down.”

“Thanks, Shiro,” Keith chuckles.  “It’s easy with you - add a candy cane and you’re immediately dazzled.”

Shiro shrugs.  “I can’t even deny that.”

Keith leans forward to look out the window.  The parking lot is filled.  The hotel’s fancy glass doors are waiting and it makes Keith nervous, but not as nervous as he thought with the glowing beacon beside him.

“Ready to go?”

Keith hums lowly.  

He just follows Shiro’s lead.  Shiro is dressed nicely in a black overcoat that looks like it costs more than what Keith could sell all his organs for on the black market.  Keith is less than stellar, shoving himself into whatever he could find in his closet, which is a jacket.  There are buttons.  It’s the nicest thing he's thought to purchase that still fits.

“You look great,” Shiro smiles back at him as he pushes the front door open, as if he can read his mind.  

“You too,” Keith says, because he totally does, so much so that it seems silly to say it out loud, but Shiro preens at the compliment anyway, face beaming.

Keith wonders what it might look like for two people to arrive together.  A couple.  They look like a couple. He fidgets under the weight of that thought.

The hotel is the sort of expensive hotel that Keith would never even consider paying for, but it’s a nice place for them to gather for a night.  There’s a mass of people inside the conference room.  He can see them from the lobby and he scans them, searching for faces he recognizes, trying to press down the nausea rising up from his stomach.  There are so many people, so many, all vaguely familiar but he doesn't know them enough for it to bring him comfort.  He definitely wouldn't have been able to come into this alone; he thinks this as he trails behind Shiro closely, drawing comfort from his presence. 

He’s always heard reunions are a shock because people look so different, but he supposes this one doesn’t count yet. Everyone looks the same and he still feels the same and he still doesn’t like any of them.  

He shrinks when they turn.

“There he is!!  Man of the hour!  Shiro!!”  They all cheer when Shiro walks in, holding up their glasses and roaring.  Some people clap above their heads and holler.  

Shiro grins brightly.  “Hey, everyone!”  He calls.  Everyone is eager to get their hands on him, pull him forward.  

Keith had expected it.  

He tries to slip away quietly - he’ll just have to find Shiro later when people have calmed down - but Shiro’s hand finds his arm and holds it steady.  Keith whips around, staring.

Shiro gives him a quick smile and slips out of the crowd with him, apologizing to the people who groan in disappointment, but he doesn’t slow down.

“Shiro -” Keith starts in surprise, guilt already setting over him like a cloud.

Shiro shakes his head but before he can say anything, he's being called again.

“Shiro!  Get back here.  You can’t run off that easily.”  

Keith vaguely recognizes her; she was part of Shiro’s group in high school.  She’s on a mission, hunting Shiro down with locked-on vision.  She has a glass in her hand and looks completely at ease there.  A little too much so.  She pats Shiro’s shoulder and then straightens his jacket for him until it’s to her liking.  “Look at you!  It feels like it’s been forever since we last spoke even though I just saw you last year...  Ah!  Is that -?”  She looks straight at Keith, blinking a few times as she presses her nose nearer.  She lets out a small amused gasp.  “It is!  You and Keith are together!  Finally,” she laughs lightly.  “I told you that your wife was the wrong move, didn’t I?  I said just to wait for -”

“ _Okay, Allura_ ,” Shiro forces out, laughter pinched.  “We’re not.  Together.”

“What?”  She squints.  “But -”

“We drove together, but we’re _friends_.”

“You always say that,” she frowns, sparing a glare for the both of them back and forth.  “When will you just take the plunge already?”

Shiro sighs, taking the glass of wine out of her hands.  “I think that’s enough for you.”

She takes it back, laughing.  “No, no, no, I’ve always thought it, sober or not.  Oh, it’s so obvious.  You’re both totally head over heels, why don’t you just -?”

“Okay!”  Shiro claps his hands loudly and grabs Keith by the shoulders, walking him in another direction.

“Come find me later!”  Allura chuckles.

“Sorry,” Shiro says lowly in Keith’s ear.  “Alcohol and her don’t mix, but she’s actually really sweet.”

Keith just laughs.  “It’s fine.  I don’t mind, she seems nice.  Today’s for socializing with your long-lost friends, isn’t it?  She came from a long way.  Let’s go back.”

“We can later, but look who I just found.”

He hears a loud familiar squawk.  “ _Keith_!”

Keith groans at the voice.  “Oh, god.”  Shiro laughs.

Before Keith can even turn around, Lance has thrown himself over his back, arms wrapping tightly around his neck.  “You lying little _snake_ !  You were planning on going the entire time, weren’t you?  I _knew_ it.”

“ _Lance,_ ” he grits.  He’s been working out and eating better, but it doesn’t mean he’s up to normal standards, and more than one hundred and fifty pounds tackling him at a flying run is too much.  He stumbles, collapsing under the weight, but Shiro is there immediately, catching Keith in one arm and tossing Lance off with the other.

“Easy,” he says, voice filled with authority.  Keith hasn’t heard that tone before and it lights a fire in his belly.

He straightens, face red.  “Uh, thanks, Shiro,” he murmurs, brushing his bangs from his face in a nervous gesture.  

“Anytime.”

He looks back to Lance though, who’s basically bouncing out of his skin waiting for an explanation.  His eyebrows are almost higher than his forehead.

Keith sighs and says as simply as he can, “Shiro happened by the cafe the other night and convinced me to go.  Happy?”

“And my offer was just hogwash? I even said I’d drive.”

“Tempting, but...”

“No hard feelings, man, just glad you came at all.  Here,” he says, shoving a drink into Keith’s hands.  “How’ve you been?  Surprised to see you out of your house.  I’m glad, don’t get me wrong about that.  Just surprised.”

Keith hums.  Shiro points at the buffet table a few feet away and wanders over there.  He’s giving them space most likely, but he’s hovering nearby, keeping Keith in his peripheral.  

“I really didn’t want to go,” Keith admits, watching the way people flock to Shiro.  He remembers the time when Shiro was little, when he was always alone, nervously picking at his fingers, and the other kids would make fun of him.  He’s smiling now, greeting his old friends with warmth and confidence.  How he’s grown.

Lance finishes his sentence, following his gaze with an amused hum.  “...But then Mr. Perfect showed up and you couldn’t say no.”

“That’s exactly it, actually.”

“I hope this means you’re finally going to tell him.”

Keith huffs out a sigh.  “Tell him what?  He has a PhD, Lance.  PhD.  The car he drove us here in?  I don’t even know what it’s _called_ it’s so damn fancy.  Look at him.  Look.  He comes from another planet.”

“Not really,” Lance says, chewing on a toothpick.  “He comes from like...an eighth of a mile away from where you lived all your life.”

Keith tosses him a dirty look.  

“I dunno, man.  For being from different worlds, you both sure get along well together.  Just saying.  You don’t look that comfortable talking to...anyone, really.  Or smile that much.  Or laugh so hard.  Food for thought.”

“Lance, I -”

“-You know what I always admired in you since we were kids?”

Keith huffs an aggravated sigh.  “What?”

“You had more confidence in yourself in your _pinky_ than our whole class did combined.  You knew you wanted something and you just... _bam_.  Did it.  You were like this blazing star shooting across the sky.  I know why Shiro fell in love with you.  I do.”  He sighs.  “That’s the real you.  This depression thing?  It sucks right now.  Totally sucks.  But you’re still that star.  I can see it sometimes still.  It’s there.”

Keith shifts to his other foot, mouth twisting.  “...Thanks, Lance.  I’m sorry, you know.  For all those years I dragged you down -”

“-Nope, don’t even think it.  We promised never to talk about it again.”

Keith laughs.  “Okay, okay.  But I just...  I guess I wanted to say that I’m glad you’re happy.  Really glad.  Your family is...you just deserve them.  You do.”

He slaps Keith on the back.  “Aww, thanks, buddy.  I think the same for you.  You deserve Shiro, so go get him already. ”

Keith looks up.  He’s afraid.  Shiro is still chatting away at the table, shining as glorious as ever.  He has his plate full of chocolate strawberries and a few of every single kind of cookie available.  Somehow he's found a candy cane and he’s smiling.  God, that smile.  He’s so...

Keith lets out a shaky exhale.  Knowing that little afraid boy has learned and adapted and grown so much makes Keith breathless.  That’s his Shiro, upgraded over and over and over again until he’s become this god-like being.  And Keith’s in love with every single version of him.

Strip away the title, the fancy car, the expensive jacket, and Shiro is still Shiro.  Keith’s Shiro.

He turns as if he’s heard his name, smiling brilliantly at Keith.  The guy he’s talking to sees his shift in focus and falters mid-sentence.

Keith nods to himself.  “Okay,” he says to Lance.

Lance claps him on the back.  “Don’t let him get away this time.”

“I won’t,” Keith breathes.

He walks forward, faking confidence for his own sake, and takes his place beside Shiro.

“Hey,” Shiro says brightly, looking relieved.  “How’s Lance?”

“Good.”  He scrambles for something better to say.  Something sharp.  “He’s...good.”

Shiro laughs.  “Glad to hear it,” he says before he looks up at the guy again, who is frowning in confusion at Keith.

He gasps a little before saying with a wide-eyed expression, finger pointing, “Are you two -?”

“-No,” Shiro says quickly.  

“No?   _Really_ ,” he says flatly, expression growing less amused by the second.  “I don’t understand you two.  At.  All.”

Keith tosses a confused look at Shiro.  

“It’s Matt,” Shiro says, gesturing his hand toward him.  “Matthew Holt.”

Keith blinks.  He’s different.  He had been so...so... _Matt_ during middle school and high school, with the huge glasses and bad posture, but now he’s... Keith has no words.

“Wow,” Keith accidentally says aloud.  “You look...different.”

Matt gives him a thumbs up.  “Thanks!  You too.  You finally grew out of your gawky teen body.”

“That’s...what I was going to say to you,” Keith hums, wry smile growing on his face.  “But I thought I’d be nice.”

Matt snorts.  “Seriously, though, you look good.  I’m sure Shiro’s already told you that enough times already though.”

“Uh...”

“Okay!”  Shiro says, coughing as he chokes on a cookie.  He gives them the thumbs up as they hover, worrying.  “I’m good,” he chokes out.  “I’m good.  Keith and I are going to...go take a break.”

“Wait, wait, wait!”  Matt holds out his hand and blocks their way.  “You were telling me about your car.  I’ve waited to see it for _weeks_ now.”

“Here,” Shiro digs through his pocket and tosses his keys to him.  “Don’t trash it.”

“Really?  For me?  Sweeeet,” Matt says, walking off, content.

There’s a door leading out that they take and Keith immediately lets out a sigh of relief.  There’s no one outside.  No loud noises, no loud chatter that’s like a concentrated blanket.  Just him and Shiro and the rain.

“Wow,” Shiro says, leaning out from beneath the roof to look up at the sky.  It’s too dark to see the clouds, but there’s something a bit fantastical about rain falling down into the light, catching it’s shine.  “I didn’t expect rain this hard tonight.  I thought the news said showers.”

Keith laughs.  “Are you sure you checked the right zip code?  They’ve been talking about a storm for ages now.”

“Oh,” Shiro hums, taking his phone out and flicking across the screen.  He laughs.  “You’re right.  It’s still set to home.”

Keith feels himself stiffen at that.   _Home_.  But he forces it down.  It’s been years.  Some things have changed and there’s no denying.

He can hear someone from inside talking into the mic.  There’s cheering.

“Competitions,” Shiro says as he pockets his phone.  “Like, ‘most changed’, ‘least changed’ sort of thing.  Want to go back in?”

“Mm.”  He can’t tell if Shiro wants to.  He’s always too busy watching others to think of what he wants himself.

“You’re looking a little keyed up,” Shiro admits.

Keith nods and presses his lips together, holding onto the glass Lance had given him tightly in his hand.  

“I’m sorry.  About what everyone’s saying in there.  I told Matt not to, I don’t know why he...”  Shiro trails off.  

“Shiro, it’s...  It’s fine.”  He wants to say something about it all.  Anything.  He’s waiting for his chance to apologize for the way he let things end in high school, but it doesn’t feel right.  The time isn’t right.  He squirms.  Takes another drink.

Shiro runs a hand through his hair, looking around easily.  “What do you think so far?  Nice?”

“Yeah,” Keith says and realizes he’s not lying.  “I was imagining it’d be a lot worse than this.  I’m not even sure what I thought was going to happen, but I’ve been worried about it.”  He laughs under his breath.

“Me too, honestly.  It’s been so long since I’ve seen anyone.”

“Yeah.  And the whole thing’s just an excuse for one big pissing contest.”  Keith kicks a rock and it hits a light with a loud clang.  

“Well,” Shiro says as he sits, leaning his elbows against the tops of his knees as he watches Keith hunt out rocks to kick.  “It’s nice to see everyone though.  I don’t think I would’ve gotten the courage to contact you otherwise.”

Keith snorts loudly.  “You?  Have the courage to contact _me_?  You’re the doctor.   You have no idea how many times I sat at the computer, thinking of contacting you, and then chickening out in the end.  The one with a wife.  Maybe kids.  Your life looked so picture perfect.”

The look on Shiro’s face is indecipherable.  He stares into the darkness of the golf course in front of them, quiet, letting thoughts develop.

After awhile, he says softly, “It wasn’t perfect, obviously.  If I had contacted you, would you have messaged me back?”

“On Facebook?”  Keith heaves a sigh and lets himself fall into the seat besides Shiro.  They’re almost touching; Keith’s not drunk, but he’s not sober enough to care either.  “I want to say yes, but...”

“It’s okay.  I get it.”

“No, it’s just...  I don’t know.  I don’t _know_ , you’ve always sort of...intimidated me...”  Keith shrugs awkwardly.  “And then I see you with your perfect job, your perfect wife, your perfect life, and I just...  It’s sort of difficult to cope with.  I know...I _know_ that things aren’t always as perfect as they seem on the outside, but I just...  I don’t know.  I guess I was scared.  It would hurt because in comparison I’m just...such a failure.  And you’d have all these cool things to talk about and I’d have nothing to say about myself.”

“Keith, you -”

“-Don’t say anything.  Don’t...  I know what I am and I’m working on it.  But that’s just why.  Why I probably wouldn’t have responded.  I was just sort of waiting until I became a better person, you know?”

“So...  You were thinking...we couldn’t be friends until you were a person you approved of?”

“Sounds about right.”

“Keith...”  Shiro’s voice is soft and torn, but then, the next second, he huffs out a laugh.

Keith looks up in surprise.

“That’s so _backwards_ . So _Keith_.”

For a moment, Keith can’t decide if he’s offended, but then he feels a smile spreading across his face the longer he watches Shiro giggling, pressing his face into his hands.  Keith starts laughing too.

“I know, I know,” Keith says.  “I’m working on it.  I’m a work in progress, okay?”

“Okay,” Shiro says, looking up, total acceptance and understanding in his eyes.

Keith feels his heart ache at the sight.

He lives constantly feeling completely alone in the world.  He's a mess.  But for this one moment, beneath Shiro’s accepting gaze, he feels like that's maybe not as much as a death sentence as he always thought.

“ _God_ ,” he can’t help but whisper.  Yearning, incredibly powerful, sweeps up through him and obliterates all intelligent thought. His heart feels so full as he watches Shiro.  “What did I ever do to deserve you?  You’ve always been like this shining star.”

Shiro blinks a few times in surprise, a small shy smile curving his lips upward.  “Keith, I hate to be the one to say this, but I’ve always always thought it was _you_ who was shining.”

Keith thinks back.  They were simpler times, back when he just felt what he felt, not like now, when his emotions were like a curse that hit at the cruelest times.   

He realizes that Shiro had really thought that about him back then, that he had been shining once.  Keith is both happy and sad all at once.

There’s another loud cheer from inside and Shiro tilts his head toward the door slightly, peering in.  He doesn’t move beyond that, but Keith already feels selfish enough keeping him away from the reunion and all to himself for this long.

“Uh, let’s go back inside,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.  

They never even make it to the stage where they’re playing games because Shiro keeps getting caught in conversations.

Shiro tries his best to include Keith, who tries his best to fade into the background like a ghost.  Nearly everyone they talk to reacts the same way Matt and Allura did, asking if they’re _finally_ a couple. Keith hardly even recognizes half the people and doesn’t understand how they could possibly know his name.

It happens often enough that Keith and Shiro start laughing about it.  It’s ridiculous, really.  When Lance and Keith had come to school holding hands, it took them forever to convince everyone that they actually were in a relationship.  People thought they were in on a prank for weeks.  But, even a foot apart and not touching, everyone’s so quick to believe it about Keith and Shiro.

“It’s the body language,” one of Shiro’s friends insists when Shiro shakes his head another time.  His friend’s a psychologist and they point to Keith’s posture with one finger and Shiro’s with the other.  “Look.  You’re angled together.  You’ve been that way all night.  And that - that thing - you just did it right now!  The eyebrow flash.  You’re serious you’re not dating?  I won’t tell anyone.”

Shiro just smiles politely and then turns to Keith. “I think I want to get more of those chocolate strawberries.  Come with me?”

“God,” Shiro says as he crams his mouth full of another strawberry.  “These are so good I can almost forget everyone asking that same dang question over and over.”

“Be careful,” Keith laughs.  “Eat too many and you’ll turn into a strawberry yourself.”

“I can’t help it.  My ex, she had the best intentions, but she was always trying to get me to stop eating sugar.  I’m still making up for it, I think.”

Keith doesn’t know how Shiro keeps his form, but he doesn’t say that, just smiles as Shiro grabs a few more and pops them into his mouth like they’re not the size of his palm.

Lance visits for another round, tossing Keith another drink, and Shiro visits with some more friends.  It’s getting late and Keith is tiring.  He can feel himself fading with each conversation that Shiro weathers.  Whenever Shiro asks him questions, he can only manage small grunts and sleepy nods.

Shiro laughs.  It’s not yet midnight, but Keith’s exhausted from watching all the social interaction and trying to play nice.  

“Let’s get you home,” Shiro says kindly, grabbing Keith by the arm and helping him wobble out.  

Keith yawns.  “No, no, I’m fine.  Everyone’s visiting today, I can sleep whenever.”

“Nah,” Shiro says, leaning in and murmuring softly so no one else can hear, “honestly, I’m getting a bit tired of all this catching up.  I’m with the person I wanted to see most.”

Keith snorts and elbows him tiredly, but he’s putty in Shiro’s hands.  He follows Shiro out without another complaint.  

“I had fun,” Shiro says as he helps Keith into the car.  “How did you like it?”

“I liked it,” Keith hums, rubbing his arms.  It’s cold and his jacket sucks.  He watches as Shiro walks across the front of the car and hops into the driver seat.

Shiro shoves the key into the ignition and turns it.  “Yeah?  I’m glad.  It’s nice to get out sometimes.”

The car doesn’t start.  

Shiro frowns, tilting his head so he can see the ignition properly.  “That’s weird.”

“What?”  Keith frowns, leaning in.  

“It won’t start.”  He takes the key out, dusts it off like that’ll do it, and tries again.  Nothing.

Keith starts laughing.

Shiro raises an eyebrow, pressing down his own smile.  “What’s so funny?”

“You have the nicest car here and it’s also the only one that won’t start.”

“I swear to god,” Shiro says in between laughs.  “Matt probably did something to it.  This thing’s basically one huge computer.  I’m going to go strangle him, be right back.”

Keith jumps up, delighted smile lighting up his face, “Wait, wait, I’ve got to see this.”  

Keith follows Shiro back inside and they seek out Matt.  He’s a ghost, nowhere to be seen.

Allura is frowning at the banquet table, eyes focused hard.  She smiles for one brief moment when she sees them approach, but it's off her face in a second as she stares at the display, morose.  “Hello, Shiro.  Keith.  I thought I ordered enough sweets for everyone, but it seems I miscalculated.  I feel just awful.”

Keith snorts, but shushes at a look from Shiro, who’s trying not to laugh.  “It’s fine, Allura.  It’s midnight, no one needs to eat anymore.”

She has a notebook out and is scribbling notes down.  “No, this just won’t do at all.  Next time, I’ll make sure to get enough.”

“Well, you have an entire ten years to think about it.  Hey, have you seen Matt anywhere?  He was messing with my car and now it won’t start.”

Allura smiles into her notebook as she writes, looking cat-like with the sharpness of her grin.  “Oh, yes, he was mentioning he did.  That’s quite a bit of trust you showed in him letting him tinker with it.  I’m impressed by your generosity.”

“I said he could _see_ it,” Shiro groans in exasperation, clapping his hand to his forehead.  “Have you seen him?  I’ve got to get Keith home here before he collapses.”

“I’m fine, Shiro,” Keith tries to say, but he’s in the middle of battling another yawn so no one believes him.

Allura caps her pen and walks down the length of the table, counting how many hors d'oeuvres are left.  “Oh, he left.”

Shiro closes his eyes tightly.  “What.”

“Yes, he left quite a bit ago.  He only came to look at your car, I think.  God knows it wasn’t for anyone else.”

“That little...”  Shiro whips his phone out and dials in Matt’s number with angry jabs of his finger.  He lets it ring, eyes cemented to the ceiling as he waits.  Keith can hear a faint click and the sound of Matt’s voice.

“ _Matt_ ,” Shiro all but growls.  “I told you to be careful with my car and I just went to go start it and guess what?  It won’t turn on.  I can’t believe you.  I -”  He frowns.  “Yes, _really_.  Why are you laughing?  This is so not funny.  I thought you were supposed to be some genius engineer.  You work for NASA for crying out loud.  Where are you?  Get your butt back here and fix my car.”

He waits, face becoming more perturbed by the minute.  He looks down at Keith and rolls his eyes, shaking his head.  “ _You_ did this.  Come back and -  Hey -  Don’t hang up -  You -”  

Shiro groans as Matt hangs up.  He looks at the phone for one moment and then dials in the number again.  It goes straight to voicemail.  

“God...”  Shiro whispers, trying to call again, but he gets the same result.  “Keith, I am so sorry.  Allura, can we get a ride?  I -”

“Sorry, Shiro,” she says  “I’ve already paid for a night in one of the rooms here.  I’m not leaving until morning.”

“Of course,” Shiro sighs, pinching his brow.  “Let’s see...would a taxi or Uber be better...?”

Keith presses his lips together tightly.  

Shiro arches an eyebrow.  “Huh?”

“This isn’t the city, Shiro.  We have...neither of those.  Remember?”

“Really?”  he says blankly.  He shoves his phone away, shoulders tight as he looks around for another option.  “I could ask -”

“Shiro,” Allura says.  “Face it.  You’re stuck.  The hotel rooms are amazing here, why do you think I chose the place?  Just stay a night.  It’s not life or death.”

“But -” Shiro looks over to Keith in worry.

Keith just shakes his head.  “It’ll be fun.  Let’s split a room.  It’ll be cheaper.”

“Now, _that’s_ a smart idea,” Allura says coyly.  “Shiro, you should do that.  Efficient.”

Shiro takes in a deep breath, scoping Keith’s face for any signs that he’s lying and really might combust right then and there.  “...You sure?”

Keith can see Lance in the crowd.  He could probably ask him for a ride and he’d probably drive the both of them, but...  He turns back to Shiro and says,  “If you don’t mind, I’m totally fine with it.”

“Okay.”  Shiro pats his pockets, still looking around and pressing his lips together tightly.  “Okay.”

“Pleasant dreams, you two,” Allura says, patting Shiro on the back.

A hotel room.  With Shiro.  

Keith pretends his heart's not fluttering as they walk out of the conference room.  Together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shameless self promotion: [ helloooo there ](https://twitter.com/go__begreat)
> 
> ALSO, THANK YOU TO THE MOST WONDERFUL JIN for drawing [this beautiful art!!](https://twitter.com/voltron_jin/status/963145371055616000) I AM SO HAPPY.


	4. Chapter 4

 

Shiro apologizes constantly on their journey through the lobby to the front desk.  “I’ll make it up to you, I swear.  I’m paying for the room.”

“I can’t let you do that.  I want this to be fair between us.”

“But this is my fault,” Shiro despairs.  

“Matt’s fault if you want to get technical about it.  Besides, you were right - I don’t get out a lot, so this is a good chance to do something different.”

“But you’re okay, though?”

“I’m fine.  Really.  I’m with you, after all.”

Shiro’s face goes bright red, giving Keith the chance to hop up to the counter and slide over his credit card.  “Hi, we’d like a room -”

“The luxury suite,” Shiro talks over Keith, leaning over his shoulder and putting his card over Keith’s.  “Use mine.”

“The suite?”  Keith complains, elbowing Shiro out of the way.  “Ugh.  Fine.  You and your expensive tastes.”

“I don’t want you to pay for it,” Shiro grapples with Keith to push his credit card further.

“I just said I’m - paying -”  Keith grunts as Shiro catches him in a hold.  He huffs out a laugh, fighting against him.  He feels like he’s eight again.  He manages to reach out and flick Shiro’s card off the counter and across the room.

“Keith!”  Shiro gasps.

Keith laughs.  “I’m sorry!  I’m sorry.  I didn't think it’d actually go that far.”

The receptionist is staring between the two of them with a slight divot in her brow.  She walks over to Shiro’s credit card and picks it up, then brings it back, placing it on the counter beside Keith’s with a long suffering sigh.  She takes in a deep breath and says, “when you two have figured out how you’d like to pay, please let me know.”

Keith tries to hold it in, but he busts up laughing.

“I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry,” Shiro says to the receptionist.  “He’s had a bit to drink.  Thank you for getting the card.  Just use mine.  Thank you.”

Shiro collects both of their cards and drags Keith, who’s still laughing, up the stairs and into the elevator.  He presses the topmost floor.

“You win this time,” Keith says, “but next time, I pay for the suite.  And it’ll be the fanciest suite you’ll ever have seen.”

“Is that so?  You have plans to be stranded at a hotel with me again soon?”

“Definitely,” Keith laughs.  “It’s not so bad, is it?”

“No,” Shiro says, and his voice is fond as he looks down at Keith.  “Who knew?  You’re a goofy drunk.  I somehow wasn’t expecting that.”

“I’m not drunk,” Keith says, drawing himself up and shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Mm _okay_.  I saw Lance handing you several glasses.”

The elevator doors open and they make it through the lone hallway.  It’s quiet and feels private already; they haven’t even made it to their room.  Shiro slides the card at the door and it clicks.

The door opens wide, beckoning them in.

Keith’s never seen such a sight.  He thought fancy rooms were like regular rooms, small and cramped, only with nicer linens and maybe a bigger TV.  “What is this place?!  This is a house,” he gasps, “not a room.”  

“It’s a suite,” Shiro shrugs.  

“There’s a glass ceiling,” Keith says in awe.  The rain is taking a break and the clouds are leaving large gaps, allowing the stars to look down at them.  The sky somehow feels so big up here on the top floor, like they’re so close to it that they can just reach right up and run their hands through them.

Keith lets out another awed laugh as runs down the steps like a five year old.  “Look at those couches!  A piano?!”  He passes the kitchen, and peers into the bathroom.  The ultimate test.  It’s bigger than his bedroom back at home.  

“There’s a fountain in this tub!”  He calls out excitedly, reaching over to try to figure out how to turn it on.  “Shiro, come look!  This is the nicest bathroom I’ve ever been in!”

Keith turns around to see Shiro leaning against the side of the door, laughing openly at Keith as he watches him.

Keith’s eyes are wide.  “Is this not blowing your mind?  Is this just like... _normal_ for you?”

Shiro shakes his head, but he’s suspiciously calm.  Keith’s still splashing his hand through the fountain like a tiny kid, abandoning his attempt at being cool around Shiro.  Shiro says, “If you have conferences to go to at the hotel, they offer pretty nice discounts, so I’ve sort of been cheating all this time.  Gotten spoiled.”

“God, I thought this sort of thing was only for royalty.  How much did this cost?”

Shiro shrugs again.

“Shiro.”

“Okay, like...maybe a little over a thousand, but it’s fine.”

Keith chokes.  He slips on the side of the tub and nearly plunges in head first.  “ _What_?”

“Consider it the I’m-sorry-my-shitty-friend-stranded-us-here care package.”  Shiro says easily, pushing himself out of the room and out of sight.

“Hey, wait a second!”  Keith calls.  He shakes his hands off and runs through the hallway.  “I need to pay for half, at least.  It’s not fair that -”

“Keith, just let me.”

“No.  I don’t feel comfortable -”  He’s interrupted by his phone buzzing in his pocket.  He looks down at it and curses.  “My dad...  I’m sorry.  I just -”

He answers it, turning back into the bathroom to talk.  Keith would’ve been beyond happy to just sleep inside the bathroom, honestly.  The suite is boggling his mind still and he sounds breathless when he answers the phone.  “Hey, Dad.”

“Keith?  You alright?  It’s midnight and I haven’t heard from you.  I thought you said you’d call if it ran late.  I was going to go to bed.”

“Mhmm.  Um, you don’t need to wait up for me.  Shiro had some car trouble, so we’re stranded here for the night until his friend can come back and fix it in the morning.  We’re just going to stay at the hotel.  I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner.  We’re in a suite and it’s kind of blowing my mind.”

“You’re staying at that hotel?  With Shiro?”  Keith can hear the hesitance in his father’s voice.  Keith’s told him about Shiro; he knows everything.  

Keith says, “Yeah, but it’s good.”

“...You sound a little tipsy...  You sure you’re okay?”

“I only had a few drinks.  You don’t have to worry about me.  I’ll leave my phone on if you need to emergency call.”

His dad lets out a small laugh.  “That’s what I was going to say.  Call me if you need me to come pick you up.”

“I’m not five, Dad.”

“Just...call.  I love you, Keith.  Stay safe.”

“Love you, too.  Thanks.”

Shiro is sitting on one of the seats, shoes and jacket off, scrolling through his phone with comfortable ease.  He turned the TV on and some game show is playing softly in the background.  Keith stops to admire the view.  Shiro looks up and smiles.  “Worrying?”

“Yeah, he, uh...  I don’t do this sort of thing often.  Or at all.  The other people at work say I'm like a comatose zombie all the time.  I just...can’t stand this sort of thing usually.  Being all social and stuff...so I usually just stay home.  But, uh...  It’s funny, I...  I feel better around you.”  

Shiro looks momentarily stunned.  It’s becoming a trend and it makes Keith feel giddy every time.

Shiro swallows hard.  “I’m...  I’m glad, Keith.  I love being around you.”  He plays with his forelock and bites his lip.  He jumps when his phone dings.  

He picks his phone up and frowns into it.  “Work.  It’s...stupid.  I’m so sorry...  I’m going to be a moment here, why don’t you try out the bath?”

Keith’s eyes light up.  “Yeah?  You don’t mind?”

Shiro chuckles, leaning on his hand.  “Go for it.  Take as long as you like.”

“I might actually take you up on that offer.”

“There are robes in the closet,” Shiro says, eyes sliding back down to his phone.  “Tell me if you need anything.”

“I can figure it out myself,” Keith snorts, opening the door.

Shiro is hiding a smile behind his hand as he lets him do it.  “That’s uh, the other bedroom.”

“ _Other_ bedroom?”  Keith chokes, letting the door swing wide.  “Why on earth...?  My heart can’t take this.  What _for_?”

Shiro laughs again.  “Some people bring their kids.  Their dog.  Who knows.”

Keith laughs loudly.  “Fluffy.  A room for Fluffy.”

“Okay, okay, go take a bath now, Mister.  March.”

“Yes, sir,”  Keith laughs, saluting and bumbling over to the closet.

He feels giddy as he closes himself into the bathroom and turns on the bath.  

Wow.  He’s never been in a place like this before.  He feels like the King of the world.  And he’s with Shiro.  This has to be a dream, but even then, he can’t be mad.  He’s used to nightmares, to feelings of disappointment and grudging, but this is just pure heaven.  If it’s a dream, he never wants to wake up.  It’s probably tacked on ten additional years to his life already.  He’s going to cherish it for the rest of his life.

He strips his clothes off and steps into the tub.  It’s clearly designed to fit two.  Or maybe more, god knows.  What this means is that Keith can finally stretch out in the bathtub the way that people were meant to stretch out.  It’s so fucking nice.

He practically purs as the hot water soaks into his skin.  There are jets.  Jets.

And that fountain.  He presses a random button and the main lights dim and the fountain glows.  

“Holy shit,” he chuckles into the water.  He half expects gold to start shimmering down from the ceiling.

He leans his head back and just lets himself absorb the moment.  He already knows it’s a once-in-a-lifetime sort of deal here.  The peak of his life.  He’s thankful for it.  He just wishes he could bottle the moment up and keep it with him after he goes home, back to that room, by himself, following that same monotonous cycle that he’s lived for years.  He wishes he could just slip the day into his pocket so he could take it out sometimes and look at it, and remember the magic that’s here.  The warmth and happiness he feels.

Is this what normal people feel like?  No.  No, this is better.  This is way better.  He thinks maybe he’s actually grateful, for once, to be Keith.

He loves the bathtub and wishes he could stay forever, but knowing Shiro is out there, only a few feet away, is calling to him.  He can’t waste time like this anymore.  He steps out and dries himself.  

And then looks down at his dirty clothes.

They’re pretty bad.  It was hot in the conference room, or maybe that was just him sweating bullets in a social situation.  But he doesn’t really want to put them back on after his spirit and body were just cleansed in this super bath.  He feels good for once and doesn’t want to ruin it.

The robe looks...well, the robe is the ideal here.  But he doesn’t want to be that person.  The “I’m not wearing any underwear” kind of person.  That’s just...he doesn’t have the mental strength for even the thought.  Especially near someone as pure and good as Shiro.

He purses his lips as he stares at it.  

Fuck it all.  It’s not like his robe is going to mysteriously fall off of him.  He’s keeping the damn robe on.

He grabs it and ties it on tightly.  Takes a deep breath.  Opens the door.

There’s Shiro, right where he left him, laying out on the couch, fast asleep.  It’s a relief to see him.  Keith feels his chest unwinding just at the sight, so peaceful, so private.  He wants to go to him and press a kiss to either cheek.  He wants to cling to him like he’s a teddy bear.  He wants to -

God.

No.

He shakes himself and pats his cheeks hard.  The sound cracks across the room and Shiro inhales sharply, face cringing as he wakes up.

“Sorry,” Keith laughs softly.  He walks over as Shiro blinks awake.

“Oh, no,” Shiro grunts, looking down at his phone in his lap.  “I fell asleep.  I didn’t do what I was supposed to at all.”

Keith laughs again.  

Shiro turns, looking over at him and smiling.  “You have some color in your face,” he says warmly.

Keith rubs the tip of his nose.  “I took a really hot bath.  It was really nice.”

“Mm.”  Shiro stretches out so that his toes hang off the end of the ottoman.  He lets himself hang limply over the couch, all the tension completely gone from him.  No more tight in-control posture.  He’s completely at ease.

Sitting beside him, Keith realizes anew just how huge Shiro is.  He could probably crush Keith without any effort.  It’s almost funny because he’d be the absolute last person to do so.  He’s like a gentle giant or something.  

“I guess it’s my turn to take a bath,” Shiro grumbles, pushing himself up tiredly.  “I don’t wanna.”

“Then don’t.”

Shiro drags both of his hands across his face and then splits his fingers to look over at Keith.  “I’m afraid I smell.”

“You don’t _smell_ ,” Keith laughs, pushing at his shoulder playfully.  “Besides, I wouldn’t mind even if you did.  It’s only you.”

“Ah, you’re being too kind,” Shiro grumbles, getting to his feet.  “But I can’t do that to you.”  He grabs a robe and backs up into the bathroom, watching Keith with a strange look on his face.  He stops right before he passes through the door, hesitates like he’s going to say something.  “You...  You won’t...”

Keith waits, but it doesn’t come.  “Hm?”  He prompts.

“You won’t leave, right?  You’ll still be here?  You won’t disappear like some apparition or something?”

Keith blinks.  He’s not sure what to say to that.  Part of him thinks it’s a joke, but Shiro’s not smiling.  Shiro’s that boy he met in fifth grade, wringing his hands and shuffling his feet, eyes lonely and watchful.  Only, Shiro’s not shuffling his feet or wringing his hands.  They’re perfectly still, holding his robe.  It’s just the vibe that tells Keith not to joke.  

“Of course,” Keith murmurs, settling into the seat where Shiro had just been.  It’s still warm.  “I’ll be right here.  I won’t move.”

Shiro hesitates again, a flicker of a grimace on his face.  He reaches back for the door with a small nervous, “sorry,” and then disappears.

It makes Keith feel better somehow knowing that he’s maybe not as left behind as he thought.  They’re all still just the same children they had been, maybe buried down a little deeper for some, but still there, still growing.

Shiro’s a doctor, yes, and he’s worked so hard for it, deserves it, but he’s also searching for the same thing Keith’s searching for - happiness.  Their own brand of happiness, something others can’t guess for them.

A flower shop, Keith thinks.  Trading a career as a doctor for something as humble as that...  Wasteful, some might say, but Keith thinks it’s brave too.  To give up something that promises to be good and gamble it on something your heart says it loves.

Keith’s still thinking about it, confusing himself more and more about what it really means, not just for Shiro’s career, but for other aspects of his life, when the bathroom door opens and Shiro comes out.

He’s hesitant almost, and when he sees Keith, he breaks out into a large grin.  “You’re still here.”

“Do a lot of your dates run out on you when you go to use the restroom?”

“Keith,” Shiro laughs.  “We’re not dates.”

“Yikes.  That would make me running out even worse, wouldn’t it?”

“ _Keith_ ,” Shiro is laughing helplessly.  “I feel like I need to tell everyone I know that you turn into this comedian when you’re drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.  I dunno why everyone keeps saying that.”

“Fast metabolism, huh?  Maybe it’s just because you’re tired then?”

Keith shakes his head, smiling cat-like.

Shiro has both hands on his hips as he tilts his head.  “Okay.  Then, what’s with this new side of Keith I’ve never seen before?”

Keith snorts.  “It’s still me, it’s still me.  I’m just...  I dunno.  Happy for the first time in a long time and it’s made me a bit excited, I guess.  Like a tiny child hopped up on too much sugar.”

“You don’t look like a tiny child.”

Shiro is wearing his robe too and Keith has a flash of curiosity: did he or did he not choose what Keith chose?

Keith bites his lip and looks away.

Shiro rubs his hair with his towel one more time before tossing it on the counter.  He plops down on the seat beside Keith and lets out a content sigh.

It’s one o’clock and the rain is out again.  They get flashes of stars outside as the wind floats the clouds past, but it’s fleeting - a treasure hunt more than a view.

It's beautiful in the room. Keith never thought he'd even see a place like this in his lifetime.  He’d never be able to afford something like this.  But still...

He says, “You distracted me earlier.”

“I did?”

“Yeah.  We were in the middle of a debate.”

“We were?”

“Mmhmm.”  Keith says firmly, “I want to pay for part of this room.”

Shiro sighs, groaning softly as he lets his head fall on the back of the seat.  “This again?”

“It means a lot to me that you let me do this.  You did so much for me throughout the years and I don’t want this to be one more thing stacked over my head.”

“Oh - Keith -   It wasn't like that. I never did anything I didn’t want to.  I paid for this room because I wanted to pay for it. It makes me happy.”

“I know you have good intentions and I’m grateful, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to buy me.”

Shiro’s head falls to the side as he looks Keith over.  As he deciphers Keith’s expression, his curiosity turns to a soft smile on his face.  “Fine.  How about this?  You can pay for the room you were going to get.  I’ll pay the rest.  ...And then also half of what you were going to pay.  That was the deal, wasn’t it?”

Keith crosses his arms and raises a patient eyebrow at Shiro.  “There was no deal.”

“Fine, fine, I won’t pay the additional half, just the excess.”

Keith thinks about it.  “But the regular room is only like -”

“Keith, come on.  It’s the room you were going to get before I had to step in and be a brat.  Good compromise?”

Keith purses his lips for a moment before sighing.  He doesn’t want this to turn into a full-blown fight when all Shiro’s trying to do is be nice.  Besides, he needs to train himself in the art of letting go.  “Good compromise...  And you’re not a brat, Shiro.”

Shiro hums lowly.  “This room might say otherwise.  I’m going to have to kiss suites goodbye if I plan to quit being a doctor.”

“That’s true,” Keith laughs.  “I’d like to see your face when you step into a normal hotel room if this is what you're used to.  God, I can’t imagine your house”

There’s a soft silence between them as the sound of the TV continues.  The glass window shows off the entirety of their town, little twinkling lights far down below, like the night sky is at their feet.  

Shiro hesitates before saying softly, voice small, “Would you still...want to share a hotel room if I couldn’t afford a suite?”

Keith sits up sharply, hoping he’s misheard.  “...What?”

Shiro realizes the tension in the air immediately and scoots up, laughing nervously, lacing his hands together tightly.  “Uh...  That was tactless of me.  I just mean...  I don’t know what I mean.”

“Did you -”

“- Could we just let it go...?”

“You think I wouldn’t like you if you didn’t have money?”  Keith says in disbelief.

Shiro huffs a sigh.  “Well.  I just wondered...”

Keith is frowning.  His heart feels sticky and uncomfortable that Shiro could even think that.  “Shiro, I like you for _you_ .  Not how much money you have.  You don’t have to _buy_ my attention.  We could’ve stayed the night in a box for all I cared.”

Shiro laughs, the sound small and breathy. “We’d freeze in a box.”

“God.”  Keith grabs a pillow and throws it at Shiro’s face.  It hits with an impressive _thwack_.  “Where do you come up with this stuff?  You think I’m that superficial?  Really, Shiro?”

“No,” Shiro says quickly.  “I don’t.”  He grabs the pillow and holds it in his lap, crossing his legs and scooting so he’s facing Keith.  “But I just...  I don’t know.  You hear so much growing up that to be rich and have a lot of money is the ideal.  With my ex, money was the main problem.  She thought if I quit it wouldn’t be enough and it’d be...selfish.  And I don’t hate being a doctor; it’s wonderful to be able to support yourself without having to worry.  I know I’m very lucky and others might not even get the chance.  But...I just can’t decide if I’d be happier doing something else I love.”

“God, Shiro,” Keith says softly.  He scoots forward, reaching his hand across to place it on Shiro’s arm.  “It’s not about what I want, or what your ex wanted, or what anyone else wants.  Why would it be?  It’s your life, not anyone else’s.  What does your heart tell you?  You’ll always have the degree if you want to go back, but you deserve a shot at the happiness you want.”  

Shiro looks up at him, eyes raw and wide as he listens closely.

Keith squeezes his arm, trust flowing between them, golden and warm.  “I think you should give it a shot, Shiro.  If you want to open a flower shop, open the damn flower shop.  You’ll be amazing at whatever you do, I truly believe that.”

“You do?”  Shiro whispers, exhaling as if he got the breath knocked out of him.

Keith blushes, realizing himself.  He takes his hands back and laughs nervously.  “But honestly, I work for minimum wage at a coffee shop.  I like it and all, but, even still, you should probably ask someone else.”

Shiro’s eyes soften as he chuckles.  “You’re Keith.  I trust your opinions and thoughts more than anyone’s.”  

The air is heavy and Keith is blushing like mad. “You really shouldn’t.”

Shiro seems to notice the atmosphere for the first time and grabs the pillow in his lap.  He aims it at Keith’s head.  “Well, I do, so deal with it.”  He tosses it, but it misses by a wide margin and flings across the room, sliding along the floor.

Keith snorts, rolling forward to look for another pillow to throw.  “God.  You must not have a lot of quality friends to trust then.”

Shiro says, “It’s always just been you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith says, tossing himself back into the couch when his hunt proves to be fruitless.  He lets himself slide down so that his head rests on Shiro’s shoulder.

Shiro goes tense, breath catching.

Keith murmurs tiredly.  “Only friend my ass...  What about Matt?  Allura?  I like them.  They seem to genuinely care for you.  Like if you were stranded on a desert island or something, they’d drop everything to help you.  That must be nice to have people to trust like that.”

“Mm.”  Shiro hums, slowly settling into Keith’s touch.  It’s just a light rest, but it feels nice.  “I like them too.  They like you, you know.  They’ve always been curious about you in high school.”

“Oh, I doubt that.  They scared me,” Keith laughs, remembering.  His eyes are on the TV screen but he’s thinking back.  “Matt once cornered me and told me to piss off and leave you alone.  Well, not in those exact words, but it scared the shit out of me for months.  I was afraid to talk to you.”

“What?”  Shiro whispers in distress.

“Yeah, he never told you?  It was when he delivered that little red lion you gave me.  Did I ever thank you?  I still have it on my windowsill.  I saw it this very morning.  So...thank you.”

“...You still have it?”  Shiro whispers, voice almost inaudible.  

Keith can’t even see Shiro breathing anymore.  He takes in a deep breath for the both of them.  Shiro’s anxiety is piercing the air.  It’s infectious.  Keith starts paying attention, which is dangerous.  

The more Keith notices the confidence that had been keeping him talking, the more it fades away.  The warm easiness is seeping from him, replaced by a sharp energy he’d rather not talk through.  But he knows he’s got to keep going.  The door is open and this is his chance.  Maybe his last chance.

He shifts off of Shiro’s shoulder and straightens his back, leaning forward onto his crossed legs.

He swallows hard and pushes his bangs back behind his ear.  “Um...  There were other things, too.  That flower.  It had my name on it.  ...Was that you?  I never actually saw who threw it...”

Shiro doesn’t say anything, so Keith clears his throat and plows on.  His voice is starting to tip out of control and he grits his teeth against it.  “I was so stupid when it happened; I couldn’t imagine who it’d be from, but, as I got older, I started thinking about it...  The candy too.  There was never any ‘from’, so I couldn’t know for sure.  But it was you, wasn’t it?”

No response.  Keith turns, confused, heart in his throat.  Shiro’s still there, breathing shallow short breaths, staring wide-eyed at the table in front of them.  

He’s not answering.  Keith’s going to be sick.   He can feel himself retreating again, fading away into himself.

“...Was it not?”  Keith asks with the last of his strength, stomach sinking in.  

“It was me,” Shiro breathes.  He swallows hard.  Looks away.

Keith takes in another deep breath to re-center himself.  It is not the reaction he had wanted.  

He can feel the panic rising up within him, just like that night, ten years ago, when Shiro had kissed him.

He shoves it away.  It won’t win this time.  It won’t ruin everything for him.

He shuts his eyes tightly, trying to block himself out.  He’s desperate to swim against the torrents of his anxiety, to claw his way to the top of this sinking ship of a body.  

But he doesn’t know where to begin.  He doesn’t know where Shiro lies or what he wants, or...what.  He doesn’t know anything.  What if he fucks everything up again?  He can’t go back home, totally alone, into that oblivion after this.  He has to at least preserve their friendship.

But how in the world can just friendship be enough after all this?

“Keith?” Shiro breathes around his own discomfort.  He reaches forward, placing a delicate hand on Keith’s shoulder.   “Keith, are you okay?  You’re shaking.”

“I’m sorry,”  Keith says, closing his eyes.  “I’m sorry.  I wish apologizing was enough.”

“What?”  Shiro asks, leaning closer in concern.  He shakes Keith’s shoulder gently when he doesn’t answer.  “What do you need?  Do you have to go home?  I’ll figure something out if you do; don’t worry.  I can -”

“- Shiro.  No...  That’s just it.  This.   _You_.  You’re...you’re too good.  You always try so hard and I...  I’m not worth it.”

“Keith -”

“No, please listen.  You did all those nice things for me when you were younger and I never addressed it, so let me do it now,” Keith says gently.  He clears his throat and clasps his hand tightly to stop himself from shaking, “Shiro, I can’t tell you how sorry I am.  On Valentine’s day, the flower, the whole Lance thing, the kiss...  I messed up so many times.  I want to blame it all on ignorance, but I don’t really think that’s all it was.  I was young, I was stupid, but I think I always sort of knew it was you.  And I...  I’m sorry.  You’re the sweetest person I know.  I’ve always thought that.  You didn’t deserve that.  You didn’t deserve someone like me hurting you constantly like that.  I should’ve done something else.  If I could go back, I would.”

Shiro’s shaking his head, brow furrowed like everything he’s hearing is crazy.  “It wasn’t your fault, Keith.  Not at all.  It was mine.  I should’ve been more clear, I was always doing things halfway.”

A small dejected laugh tearing from Keith’s lungs.  “Halfway?  You?  You’ve only ever been kind and giving.  It was me who was always messing up.  I don’t even think I thanked you for half of it.  I was...  I was so scared.  I didn’t want to get too close and get hurt or for you to get hurt.  But now I realize I was just kidding myself.”

It’s quiet for awhile.  The dimness of the light had seemed warm and comfortable earlier, but now it just feels dull.  The TV is still going in the background, soft, but intrusive.  Shiro reaches over and turns it off mutely.  

Then it’s really just the two of them.  Raw.  Exposed.  Shiro opens his mouth, then closes it.  He bites his lip.  “Is that why you pulled away?”  Shiro says, voice still a whisper, like he can’t bear it.  “It’s like every time I tried to get close to you, you fell right through my fingers.”

“I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“I don’t understand...  Because then, with Lance...  I thought I had messed up.”

A darkness falls over Shiro’s features - it’s pain.

It hurts him, even now, after all these years, and Keith finds himself feeling more sick than before, finally understanding the depths of the hurt he’s caused.  

“Lance was...different.  If it blew up, it blew up, you know?  I hate the guy almost as much as I care for him.  It’s always been that way.  But you were always so sweet.  To hurt you would be like impaling an injured bird.  And I respected you.  If I were to lose you, I just...”  Keith presses his fingers into his eyes and groans softly.  “I don’t think I’m explaining myself right.  It was like...when I was a kid, and the person I loved the most in the world was my mother and then she just died and she was suddenly just gone.  Gone.  I never will get to see her again.  I didn’t even get to say goodbye.  And this time, with you, it felt like things were in my hands.  And you were standing on the side of a bridge with me, looking down into a dark hole, handing me a rope, asking if you could trust me to hold you up if you jumped.  I was too afraid to try.  It was like I could already feel the rope burning through my hands, falling right through my grip.  I’d be fine just staying with you on that bridge if it meant I could keep you, no matter what form.  So, at grad night -”

“-When I kissed you -” Shiro says faintly.

“I ran.  It felt different than any other kiss I’d ever had and I knew, I knew it was special with you.  I’d always known it.  It felt like...”  

Keith isn’t sure he can put it into words, but Shiro continues for him, words soft as he smiles gently, knowingly, “like the planets aligning.”

“Yes.”  Keith closes his eyes, remembering.  His fingers trace his bottom lip, pressing into the softness there.  “On top of the fear, you were valedictorian.  You were going to medical school and I was staying home.  I wanted you to find a better happiness than I could give you.  I really thought that I was giving you a chance.

“I’m so sorry, Shiro,” Keith says.  “For everything.  If I could go back, back to the first time I ever met you, I would, and I’d do everything differently.  I’d make you flowers and deliver them to your door.  I’d get all the peppermint candies I could and fit them into your desk.  And a few boxes of macaroni and cheese too.”

Shiro laughs, looking over at Keith fondly.  “You’re stealing all my ideas.”  

Keith lets out a breathy laugh too.  “Yeah, I wouldn’t write my name on the ‘from’ tag either.  I’d leave it out to be all mysterious.  You’d have to figure it out on your own.”

Shiro laughs again, groaning in embarrassment.  “You’ll never let me live that down, will you?  I was so nervous, you know.  You were this bright ball of energy and I was this awkward tangle of too-long limbs, braces and acne.  God.  People used to throw rocks at me and bow down to you.  You were...”  Shiro inhales deeply and exhales just the same, that fond nostalgic smile on his face.  “You were so cool and you still spared your attention for someone like me.  It brought me so much happiness.  I’ll never forget that.”

Keith snorts.  “God, no.  It was just ADHD at its finest.  I was just a mass of energy, bouncing all over the walls until my foot found a holding.”

“A mass of energy.  Like a star.”

“Figures you’d find something good out of it...”

Shiro says, looking Keith in the face, “I thought you hated me secretly and I was just clinging to you, annoying you.  If only I knew what you were feeling, I wonder if I would’ve found the courage to confront you.  To tell you everything face-to-face instead of sneaking around behind your back like that.  I always regretted that too.”

“Shiro, no, you were perfect.  I was an idiot.  ...I’m sorry.”

Shiro pokes a finger to Keith’s cheek, trying to brighten up the dreary look on his face.  He musters up a smile as he shoves his hands on his hips.  “Okay, Keith, listen to me.  There’s no need to apologize.  I forgive and release you from any little guilt you’ve ever felt over me.  I was never mad at you, not once.  We were kids, that’s what kids have to do in order to learn and become adults.  You were my star.”  Shiro closes his eyes, smiling lightly.  “I’d follow you anywhere, Keith.”

Keith smiles as he watches Shiro.  He can feel his heart beating.  It’s different.  It’s clenching tightly and he’s feeling light, fluffy, he doesn’t know what to do with himself.  The chains holding him down for so long are coming undone, freeing him.  He’s been forgiven.  He hasn’t felt so human in a long time.

He lets out a  breathy laugh as he crosses his hands over his belly and leans against Shiro’s shoulder again.  This time, Shiro leans into it.  He’s so warm.  

“I wish we could go back,” Keith hums, looking up at the stars.

“We can.”  

“We can?  You have a time machine?  Wow.”

“Yes,” Shiro says, a twinkle in his voice.  “Close your eyes.”

“Shiro,” Keith says lowly.

He chuckles under his breath, ruffling Keith’s hair.  “Humor me.”

“Hmm...  ‘kay.  Now what?”

“Ever heard of the “what if” game?”

“Uh, no?”

“It’s basically just like it sounds.  We’re rewriting history.  What if we did this? What if we did that?  What do you think?”

Shiro sounds so excited, like this will actually change the past.  Keith smiles softly, “Okay.”

“Here, I’ll start:  what if...we’re in sixth grade again?  I’ve just snuck into your classroom during lunch and I notice I didn’t put my name in the ‘from’ section.  Realizing right away what a disaster this would be, I find some confidence, snatch a pen from your bag and write down my name.”

“And I come in, having forgotten my bag, see you stealing my pen, and call the police.”

“Keith,” Shiro laughs, nudging him playfully.  “This isn’t how you play!  And you were like ten.”

“So old enough to know how to call 911.”

Shiro snorts.  “ _Keith_.”

Keith is laughing, but he pulls himself together and nods.  “Okay, okay, I wouldn’t do that to you.  Let’s see...  I found it after I came in from lunch, so the next time I saw you was...after school.  You came in.  You were just standing there, shuffling your feet.”

“This time, I’d say, ‘Hi, Keith, did you see the chocolates I gave you?’”

“I’d say, ‘Thank you, Shiro!  Let’s go out on a date!’”

“Wait, you were ten.”

“You were giving me chocolates!  What else was I supposed to say?  A ten year old knows what a date is.”

Shir laughs again, holding his hands up in surrender.  “Okay.  I’d say, ‘sure, let's go.  Where do you want to go?’”

“And then we’d probably just end up walking to that local pizza place that says, ‘no soliciting’ over it.”

“There was an arcade in there back then, remember that?  They used to have Spice Girls stickers.”

“You _would_ remember that.”

Shiro is unapologetic.  “They were popular back then.”

“Okay, next one.  What if...” Keith thinks for a moment.  “Oh, that time I made out with your brother -”

“- _What_?”

Keith blinks and looks over slowly.  “Oh, god, he never told you?  I thought you knew.”

“What?  Ryou?”

“Yeah,” Keith snorts.  “You shouldn’t feel jealous though.  The only reason I did it was because he reminded me of you.”

Discontent is wiped out by surprise.  “Really?”

“Mmhmm.  And he was giving me all this art advice and telling me about his favorite movies.  It turns out he was just telling me all _your_ favorite movies and giving me art advice he’d learned from _you_.”

“That Ryou... ”  

“He was horrified when he found out who I was.  I thought I was just a really bad kisser or something, but then he told me you were his brother.  And that you liked me.”

“He - He did?”  Shiro chokes.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know.  I thought for sure...  It scared me every time I talked to you after that..”

“Oh, my god,” Shiro says, wiping a hand over his face.  “I am going to have a serious talk with him.”

“Only ten years late,” Keith laughs.

“I can’t believe he never said anything...”   

Keith is still laughing into his hand.  “Okay, but...what if I had gone home, logged onto Facebook, and typed out to you, ‘Your little brother told me that you liked me.  Let’s date.’”

Shiro grins, eyes crinkling.  “Aren’t we already dating though, or did the pizza date go horribly wrong?”

“Already dating.  But you drive by now, don’t you?”

“Oh.  Right.  We can go somewhere besides the pizza place.”

“Where are you taking me?”

Shiro is smiling as he thinks about it.  “Uh..  How about...  The...movies?”

“God, what was even playing back then?”

“Interstellar.  I missed it in the theaters.  I’ve always wanted to see it on the big screen.”

“That wasn’t even the right time frame!  You’re so bad at this game.”

“Doesn’t matter.   _What if_ it was?”  Shiro wiggles his eyebrows.

Keith bursts out laughing, holding onto his gut.  “...God.  Okay, okay.  Next one.  Let’s see...”

“What if you didn’t go out with Lance,” Shiro interjects, voice carefully light, as if he’s forcing it to stay under control.

Keith takes a deep breath, feeling his mood sobering quickly. “Hmmm. That was when I started getting super moody.”

“I remember.  You got in a fight with some kid in school.  He had to go to the hospital, didn’t he?  You got suspended for what seemed like forever.”

“He got a concussion...  He barely even did anything.  I was...fucked up. It wasn’t Lance’s fault at all.  I want to blame puberty.  It’s like I changed around then, both physically and mentally.  Everything started bothering me, things I’d never even thought of before weighed on me like a ton of bricks.  And I just...drowned under it.”

“I think there were a lot of suppressed emotions you had never dealt with and they just hit you all at once.  You were going through a tough time without your mother and your father wasn’t around.  He was always busy.  I remember you talking about it online.”

“Yeah,” Keith mutters.  He starts picking at his fingers subconsciously.  “And you sort of went silent after that.  I felt so guilty.  I knew you liked me and I was still too much of a coward to go to you.  I knew I hurt you.”

“I'm so sorry for that, Keith. I shouldn't have left like that.  I was devastated.  Every time I saw you with Lance, I... I couldn’t take thinking about it anymore so I thought if we stopped talking, I’d stop thinking of you.  But it’s no excuse.  I should’ve been there for you.”

“Did that work?  Did you stop thinking of me?”

“No.  Not at all.  I dreamt of you almost every night.”

“Jesus, Shiro...  I’m sorry.”

“No, I wouldn’t have wanted to dream about anyone else.”

Keith smiles, but his heart still feels sad.  “...Your wife.”

“Ex-wife.”

“Ha... Yeah, uh...  I mean, you loved her?”

Shiro takes in a deep breath, his eyes looking up through the skylight.  “It’s...different.  I imagine it’s a bit like how you felt with Lance.  I mean, you love him, right?”

Keith squints.  Shrugs.  “I suppose.  In a way.”

“It was...pleasant at first, but it was probably mostly just the idea.  It wasn’t anything amazing, mostly just the convenience, I think.  I was still trying to get over you.  I thought marriage would drive the thought of you away.  I thought you had rejected me outright and it should’ve been a clean cut.  ...But it wasn’t.  Even when I was with her, I...”  He’s quiet for a moment, words hanging in the air.  Softly, he clears his throat and says, voice low,  “You have no idea how many times I almost chickened out of the wedding because I thought of you.  Saw your face.  It was like you were everywhere.  It was horrible of me, but...I still...  I couldn’t stop.”

Keith swallows hard.  He grabs Shiro’s hand tightly in his.  He doesn’t know what he’s saying when he whispers, “...What if...that night, our last night at school, under the stars...  What if, when you had kissed me...I had kissed you back?  You had asked me, ‘want to dance?’  This time, I say, ‘yes”.”

Keith pushes himself up and turns so he can look over at Shiro.  “I say yes.”

Shiro’s eyes are wide, glistening in the light the moon shines down on them.  “I’d like that,” Shiro whispers, voice overflowing with emotion.

Keith swallows hard, placing a hand carefully on Shiro’s chest.  It’s warm. Keith can feel the beating of his heart, unsteady and rabbit-fast, as he watches Keith’s face, only inches apart.

It’s here, this is the exact moment he’s always hoped for, quietly, in the depths of his heart.  The door is wide open and he’s staring into it, blinding white and mind-numbing.  It’s inviting him in.

He wants to do it right.

He needs to say it.

He’s got to say it.  

He looks Shiro straight in the eyes.  The moon is still there around them, peeking through the clouds and bathing them gently in its light.  Shiro’s eyes are only for him, almost glowing as they stare, transfixed, on Keith’s face.

Keith takes in a shaky breath and whispers,  “ _I like you_ , Shiro.  I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time now.  I’ve liked you since forever...

“It was always you.  Lance keeps trying to set me up with other people, but I just...I can’t stand the thought of anyone else but you.  When I saw you were married, I thought that was it for me.  That I’d live and grow old completely alone.  I’ve never wanted anyone else besides you.  They mean nothing to me.  They’ve always meant nothing to me.”

Keith’s panting hard.  He’s still shaking and he knows he probably looks awful.  “I just...I needed you to know that.”

His heart is beating out of his chest, but, somehow, he feels better.  Whether Shiro rejects him or accepts him, at least he knows.  At least Keith met him halfway this time like he’s never been able to do before.

Shiro’s still staring straight at him, mouth agape.  His chest is rising and falling, but it looks automatic now, like his body has taken over and is doing the work for him.

“Shiro,” he whispers.  He shakes him gently.  “Say something.  This silence is killing me.”

Shiro takes in a sharp breath, his face tensing.  He opens his mouth, hesitates.  Bites his lip.  Hangs his head.

Keith closes his eyes.  Rejection.  He should’ve known, but he can’t be mad.  Not at Shiro. “...Shiro...  It’s okay.  Don’t spare my feelings.  If you just want to stay friends, I’m totally fine with that.  Your friendship means a lot to me.  We should keep in touch though.  The silence thing sort of killed me...  We can still be friends, right?”

“No,” Shiro says suddenly.  He blinks his eyes several times like he’s trying to blink stardust away.  He shakes his head and presses his palm to his face.  “No.  I-”

Keith’s breath shakes as he pulls away.  “I’m sorry,” he murmurs as regret rests heavy in his heart.  “I know it’s too late.  Too much has happened.  But I...I just thought you should know.  You mean a lot to me and you always have, always will.  I think you’re amazing.”

“No,” Shiro says again, and he struggles, like it’s the only word in his vocabulary and he’s fighting against it.  “Keith, I -  I -”

“...You?”

“I...”  Shiro’s grey eyes are panicked and frightened, like a tiny puppy who doesn’t know what to do.  He stares up at Keith, desperation rising within him, smearing all across his face.  

Shiro shakes himself roughly, tossing it all away.  He reaches forward, clutching to Keith's hands tightly. “I like you too,” Shiro basically yells.  “God, I like you so much.  Since the first time I saw you, I knew.  I’ve wanted to tell you for years, years, but I was too afraid to.  I would set it all up and rehearse it for days to try to psych myself up to tell you, but then I’d approach you and see you and - and all the words would just fall out of my head.  Like now.  I can’t think.  My mind’s just everywhere.  You’re - you’re Keith.  And I’m just...”  He shakes himself, tearing his eyes away and hugging his arms tightly.  “I’ve wanted to tell you for so long.  To your face.  Actually say it.”  He swallows hard and rocks forward.  When he rocks backward again, he turns to Keith, lips pressed together tightly, face open and wide.  

“I like you,” he says again, firmly, with conviction.  He’s not forcing it.  Not yelling it.  It’s a perfect delivery that’s just a little late.  Fifteen years late, but it’s here.  “I like you.  I’ve liked you since forever.”

A small smile starts to grow on Keith’s lips.  It blossoms and blooms into a laugh, sweet and warm.  “Yeah?”

Shiro nods, laughing, winded.

Keith beams.  He leans forward, cupping his hands around Shiro’s face.  “Okay.  Okay, good.  ...I want to keep playing the game.”

“Okay,” Shiro whispers.

Keith leans in, breathing in deeply.  “What if...  What if I asked to kiss you?”

A small laugh comes from him that sounds almost delirious.  Shiro breaths out, saying faintly, “...you know what I’d say.”

“Hmm...what if I want to hear it?”

Shiro laughs, that same breathless sound.  “Yes.  My answer’s yes.”

Keith takes in a deep breath.  He’ll think about it forever if he lets himself.

So he just closes his eyes and takes the jump.

Slowly, carefully, he presses his lips up against Shiro’s.  

He’s almost afraid that their first kiss had just been a fluke - that it was his raging hormones that made him feel like he was on fire, constructing this feeling of love and fireworks and galaxies stretching out as far as the mind can reach.  Now, as an adult in a depressive haze who gets nauseous at the sight of porn, he fears he won’t feel that same passion, that same light.

But it’s there immediately, like a hook, catching him by the chest and pulling him forward without mercy.  It’s the moon fishing for fools in love, and Keith’s been in love for so long, a lonely fish in the night sky, swimming through constellations, waiting to find his place in the stars.

It’s everything.  The feeling of Shiro close, his warmth, his light, his shy little smile, his acceptance, always reserved for Keith, since they were young and stupid up into now.  He’s still here, throughout all of Keith’s mistakes.  Still warm and still Shiro.  

Keith’s mind is melting.

The kiss is the epitome of everything Shiro is.  Soft, gentle, understanding.  Keith feels himself unraveling beneath Shiro’s touch.  His hands graze against Keith’s jaw and hold him there and Keith leans forward, closer.

Shiro tastes like candy canes and strawberries and Keith is so endeared he can’t stop the helpless laugh that escapes him.  It sounds almost like a sob.  Keith is Shiro’s.  Wholly, completely.  Has been for a long time now.  And it’s taken so long, so long, but Shiro’s here now.  And so is Keith.

It’s the sweetest moment of Keith’s life.  

Shiro breaks away gently.  The kiss had been delicate, like the petal of a rose, but they’re both breathing hard as if they’re only just finished a 200 meter dash.  

“Keith.”  Shiro breaths his name like a sacred prayer, held deep within his heart.  His hand is in Keith’s hair and Keith can feel as he forces each finger to unclench.  He rests his hand at the base of Keith’s neck, breathing hard.

“Shiro,” Keith whispers back, leaning his forehead against Shiro’s.  

Shiro takes in another steadying breath, closing his eyes, absorbing the moment.  A small smile begins to form as he comes back to himself.  “...What’s so funny?”

Keith laughs breathlessly again, sitting back slightly so he can look up into Shiro’s eyes.  “You ate all of the strawberries at the banquet.  I can taste them on you.”

Shiro laughs too.  “...Yeah... Allura looked upset. I didn't have the heart to tell her.”

Keith laughs, leaning back in to place another kiss against Shiro’s mouth.  And another.  And another.  And he leans in deeper, nibbling on the bottom of Shiro’s lip, asking for permission.

Shiro gives it to him, tilting his head to allow Keith better access.

It’s different with Shiro.  So different; he can’t describe it.  It’s like he’s transforming into some other being, something that feels and understands.  Something unlocks inside of himself, and it’s like he’s had layers and layers of defenses up that even he wasn’t aware of, and Shiro’s rubbed them all away somehow, without him even realizing it.  He doesn’t know when it happened or how, but he can feel things he never realized he could feel.  He’s breathing in new air.  He can be whoever he wants to be, whatever he wants to be, wherever.  

He seeks out Shiro’s hands and clings to them tightly.  The kisses he had shared with Lance had been cold and uncomfortable; this is nothing like that.  This is life being breathed into his soul.  This is fire spreading through his lips, his mouth, and running across his entire body.  He’s drowning in Shiro, but it’s not choking him, it’s giving him air that he hasn’t been able to breathe in so long.

He’s never wanted anything else more than this.  He realizes it suddenly, a truth that he’s always known but has never allowed himself to acknowledge.

He holds Shiro’s face with both of his hands, crawling over his legs and onto his lap.  He doesn’t know how he’s suddenly so bold, but it doesn’t matter right now.  Nothing else matters but Shiro.  Every second that he’s spent wondering about Shiro has manifested into minutes, into hours, into days, into the past years built up into something that hurts Keith like a blade.  This is the release.  This is the blade washing away with the blood as Shiro kisses him and heals him.

Keith’s gone.  So gone.  

He kisses Shiro harder and harder until it hurts.

He just lets himself move, fingers running over Shiro, still shaking.  He doesn’t care anymore.  He’s sneaking them, overly sensitive, into Shiro’s robe, feeling the skin there on his god-like chest, burning beneath his own touch.

“Keith.”  Shiro’s breath hitches.  

Keith’s robe is slipping down and he lets it.  It falls off his shoulders and down his back, catching at the tie around his waist.  As if his life depends on it, he pulls his arms from it quickly and his hands are back to Shiro, and he’s kissing him hard, moaning into his mouth.  He can feel Shiro hard beneath him as his hands reach up Keith’s back, pressing up his spine, over his shoulder blades, and it makes him feel like he’s burning in flames.  He’s wanted this so badly.  Desperation is welling up inside of him strong enough to choke him.

“Keith.” Shiro runs his fingers through his hair and breathes out harshly into his mouth.  He tries again, insistent.  “ _Keith._ ”

“What?”  Keith breathes, fingers traveling lower into Shiro’s robe, feeling the curve of his hip bone beneath his fingers, the softness of his skin, but the firmness of his abdomen.  Keith feels like he’ll combust.  He wants more.  He needs more.

“Keith, wait,” Shiro forces out, his hands shakily grabbing onto Keith’s shoulder and holding him in place.  He’s gentle, but he’s trembling and it’s not getting better, it’s getting worse.

Keith pulls back, confused.

Shiro has slipped from his place on the couch and is laying sprawled out beneath Keith, robe pushed away, exposing his stomach and chest. His hair’s a mess, tangled and disheveled.  His cheeks are dusted with pink gold and his lips are redder than strawberries.  

He looks kissed.  Kissed and warm and...and there’s something sharp in his eyes, sharp and vulnerable.  Confused.  Too much so.  Like he’s bleeding out.  

It’s a complicated mixture of emotions that press into Keith’s mind.

“Wh-what’s wrong?”  Keith breathes.  

Shiro shakes his head, hissing.

“This isn’t right,” Shiro whispers, pressing his palms harshly into his eyes.  There’s sweat prickling at his forehead as he groans like he’s in pain.  His chest heaves as he forces out, “I can’t believe I’m saying this.  W-We can’t do this right now.  You’re drunk.”

Keith blinks stupidly.  “Huh?  I-I’m not -”

“I _saw_ you drinking.  I saw it and still I let us get this far...  Keith, I’m sorry.  I’ve wanted this for so long you have no idea...  No idea...  I don’t want to stop when you’re finally right here in my arms.  But I...   I can’t do it like this.  Not now.  I want to do right by you.  I never _ever_ want to take advantage of you.  Not in any shape or form and I - I -”

His breaths are coming in short.  Winded.  He’s panicking.

“Hey,” Keith says softly, crawling back in closer, but he stays off Shiro’s lap.  His reaches his hand up to pull Shiro’s hands from his face.  “Hey.  It’s fine.  If you want to stop, we can stop.”

Shiro lets out a wet laugh that has more bitterness in it than Keith thought he could ever house in that body of his.  “ _God_.  I don’t want to stop.”  He pushes himself up slowly, clutching his hand to his chest as he forces himself to breathe, “but I think we should.”

Keith nods.  His body is still hot and he feels...he doesn’t know what he feels.  He’s not usually like this.  His body doesn’t work like it should.  His antidepressants suppress reactions like this, and even when he wasn’t on them, depression did its work destroying his hormones.  

They’re not doing their job now.  He still wants to lean in and kiss Shiro senseless.  He wants to pull his robe off and feel every inch of his body.  

God.  He swallows hard and tries to push it all down.  Tries to think of other things to get his mind off it.  Dead fish.  Dirty trash.  Baby diapers.  It doesn’t work.  He wants to crawl on top of Shiro again.  It had felt so damn good.  And now he’s hard and horny and...

He needs to respect Shiro.  He _needs to_.  It’s not an option.  His body is going to have to wait.

He swallows again, taking a deep breath in, and tries to discreetly push himself about a foot away from Shiro, forcing himself not to look at him.  He slips his robe back on awkwardly, tugging it closed tightly over his chest.  

God, he feels so stupid.

“I’m uh, I’m not really drunk, Shiro,” he says quietly.  “I know what I’m doing, you know.”

“Uh,” Shiro manages.  He still sounds short of breath, but it’s not the elated kind; it sounds like when Keith has to run to the bathroom to throw up.  Like it’s consuming him.  

Keith looks over carefully, hands still behaving themselves in his lap.  “Are you okay...?”

Shiro chokes back a strangled laugh and nods quickly.  He’s blinking a lot, eyes darting, smile falling off his face quickly.

When he sees Keith is still watching, he tries to make a joke, but it’s too winded, too forced, “I feel like I’m twelve again.  Thrown into a mental breakdown after a kiss.”

“...I can leave for a bit if that makes it easier -”

“Wait!” Shiro says, reaching out.  He holds Keith in place before he can get up, but presses his other hand to his eyes, hiding himself.  “ _Don't go_.  Please.  Just give me a second.”

“I’m sorry,” Keith whispers, looking at the top of Shiro’s head as it hangs, shoulders still heaving.  “I...I took it way too far.  I should’ve at least asked.”

“Oh, um, no, it’s not that, it’s just...  It’s just...”  He lets out a faint laugh. “I’ve wanted this for so long and now that it’s happening and I’ve rejected it, I’m...terrified.”  He takes in a few deep breaths.  “What if this opportunity doesn’t come again?  What if you wake up in the morning and don’t remember any of this?  I didn’t think that...  I’m not sure why I’m panicking.  Just give me a second.  I’ll be better in a second.”

Keith settles into the seat beside Shiro, their arms still touching.  “How drunk do you think I am?”  Keith laughs wearily.  

Shiro just shrugs.  “I don’t know, but it’s not right.  I know you’ve been drinking...  And for our first time...  I can’t.  I can’t do that to you.  It’s _wrong_ .”  He sniffs roughly, face miserable. He’s still clinging to his chest like he’s falling apart.  “I’m sorry, Keith, for panicking.  Jesus.  You did nothing wrong.  I’m just being... _weird_ for no reason.  I don’t understand myself.”   

“It’s okay,” Keith says gently, placing a soft hand over Shiro’s.  “I sort of just like, unleashed fifteen years of hormones on you in the span of one minute.  I kinda lost myself there.”

Shiro laughs helplessly, nodding.  “Yeah.  You kind of did.”

Keith groans, face burning red in embarrassment.  “God, I’m sorry.”

“No.  No.  Not at all.  I...like, I’ve wanted this for so long.  I’m not even kidding, in high school, I probably would’ve killed to get to this point.  That’s definitely not the issue.  Definitely not.  My mind’s just reeling.  Just...”  He lets out a winded groan, disappointment in himself bleeding into his face.  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.  I’m trying to stop.”

“It’s okay,” Keith said again, leaning his head against Shiro’s arm.  Shiro wraps his arm around him tightly and it seems to help him calm a bit.  “Kind of sounds like a bit of a panic attack,” Keith says gently.

Shiro shakes his head, blowing out a long unsteady breath.  “I wouldn’t know.  I’ve never gotten one.”

“Hmm.  We don’t have to do anything, Shiro, really.  There’s no pressure.  Let’s just sit and talk for right now.  Does that sound okay?”

Shiro’s still winded, mouth twisting in what looks like embarrassment trying to mask true discomfort.  “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.  I’ve been really happy tonight.  Way more than I’ve been in...gosh, forever maybe.  I love talking with you.”

“Yeah?”  Shiro swallows hard.  He pushes himself back into his seat so that he looks a bit more at ease.  

Keith traces random patterns onto the top of his hand.  “Is this okay?”

Shiro nods.  “It feels nice.”

It takes awhile for his heart rate to slow, but there’s no rush.  They’re in the nicest room Keith’s ever been in, sitting next to the nicest guy he’s ever met, and he’s doing just fine.  Shiro calms eventually, leaning back against the couch and sighing out whatever stress is leftover in him.

“Feeling better?”

“Uh,” he laughs softly.  “Yeah.  It’s fine.  I’m a little embarrassed.”

“Mm.  You’re fine.  I understand all too well.  I thought I saw your car once a few years back and I had to run to the bathroom to throw up and I cried my eyes out for like ten minutes straight.”  Keith laughs.  “I had no idea why I was crying for so long.  It wasn’t even your car and I knew it.  My boss sent me back home after that.”

“Keith...”

“I’m just saying...they happen, they suck, and then they’re over and leave you feeling totally lame.  The awful cycle of a panic attack.  But it’s not your fault.  It’s like an evil outward force or something.”

Shiro hums, nodding his agreement.  Silence falls over them like a blanket, but there’s no tension in it.  They rest beneath its serenity for awhile, looking up at the stars together.  

Shiro still has his arms around Keith and Keith can feel his heartbeat.  It’s slow again.  Even.  Sleepiness is falling over Shiro’s face again, but he shakes it away as it does.

Shiro huffs out a sigh.  “We are quite the pair.”

Keith laughs under his breath.  “Quite.”

“Well,”  Shiro says.  “It _was_ a really good kiss though, so I think it was a warranted reaction...”

They both start to giggle, quietly at first but it gets louder.  They’re adults.  Definitely adults.  It erupts into full blown laughter and then they can’t stop.  They don’t even know what they’re laughing about anymore, but they are, hands held tightly, stomachs getting sore.

“It’s so late,” Shiro says, wiping the tears from his eyes, still chuckling.  

“It’s so late,” Keith agrees.

“Want to sleep?”

“Mm...”  Keith thinks about it, picking out the stars from the sky up above.  He shakes his head.  “I’m tired, but...  I don’t want this day to end.”

Shiro hums, turning and placing a kiss to Keith’s temple.  It’s easy, like they’ve always done it.  And they have, every night, as they slept.  But now they’re here, in reality and it feels so much better.  “Me neither.”

There it is again.  Keith feels like his chest is opening up, like he’s going to float away.

Keith breaths in through his nose, trying to get his heart to stop pounding so hard.  He can feel it in his throat, and he’s so raw and vulnerable he doesn’t know what to do with himself.  “...Was it ever like this?”

“No,” Shiro says softly.  “Nothing like this.  I...  No.”

Keith swallows hard, feels the words forming on his lips before he pushes them from himself.  “With your wife?”

Shiro traces his hands down Keith’s spine and rests them against his lower back.  His hands are warm and firm, and Keith’s heart is burning.  He’s never felt so loved.  He can almost feel his soul healing, the darkness in it burning away at the edges, darkness shrinking away, making room for light.  “No.  Never.  I...I’ve wanted you for so long.  You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamt of this.  Literally.  I can’t believe it.  When I wake up, I don’t know what I’ll do.”  He nuzzles into Keith’s neck and sighs, humming contentedly.  “This must be a dream, but I’m happy.  It’s such a good dream...”

“This isn’t a dream, Shiro,” Keith chuckles, running his hands through Shiro’s hair.  He pushes the forelock out of Shiro’s eyes so he can see the stars in them as he looks up and grins at Keith.  “But I suppose you’ll see that in the morning.”

“Maybe,” Shiro says.  Watching Keith’s face for permission, he scoots forward and reclines, laying his head on Keith’s lap, looking up.  They smile at each other and Keith sighs contentedly, running his hands through Shiro's hair.  “How drunk are you?”

Keith snorts.  “Oh, my god.  Why are you so fixated on that?  I swear I’m never drinking around you again.  Does it look like I’m that bad?”

“Well, I don’t know.  We were just laughing at nothing for a solid ten minutes a second ago.  And you flicked my credit card at a receptionist earlier.  And you laughed about it.  I thought she was going to kill you and I’d have to carry your dead body back to your dad.”

“It was late and my energy reserves for dealing with my social anxiety were completely expended.  I was half a person at that point.”

“And you were a little drunk.”

“And I was a little drunk,” Keith chuckles, fluffing Shiro’s hair playfully.  “This was my choice though, and not the alcohol’s, if that’s what you’re thinking.  You’ve always been on my mind, Shiro.”

“I want to make you happy,” Shiro whispers, reaching up to cup Keith’s face in his hand.  “Ever since I first saw you, probably not more than three feet tall.  I’ve always wanted you to choose me and give me a chance.”

Keith nods, pressing his lips together tightly.  “Me too.   I’m scared though...  I don’t want to wrong you.  You saw what happened with Lance and me.”

“My relationship didn’t turn out the best either,” Shiro reminds him with a patient smile.

“Let’s just try it,” Shiro says.  “You and me.  If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work and we’ll just be friends.  But let’s not run from each other anymore no matter what.  Okay?”

Keith nods slowly.  “Okay.”

“So, Keith?  Will you go out with me?  Just the two of us.”

Keith nods again, smile growing on his face.  “Yeah...  You and me.  Like we should’ve done ages ago.”

“Well, we’re here now,” Shiro says, and he leans up to kiss Keith.  He starts by placing a gentle kiss on his cheek and then he travels lower, down to the edge of Keith’s mouth.  He nuzzles into his face there before breathing out and pulling away softly.  “Want to play another game?”

Keith has his eyes closed, memorizing the feeling.  He’s warm.  So warm.  “Mm.  What?”

He lifts his arm and points up their the glass ceiling, into the stars.  “How many do you think you can name?”

“Constellations?  ...You are so on.  Prepare to be completely destroyed.”

Shiro laughs, looking over at Keith, all the stars in the galaxy illuminating his eyes.  “Okay.  Okay.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> 
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	5. Chapter 5

It’s warm when Keith starts to rouse.  His body isn’t sore for once and the sun is too bright for it to be a decent time, but Keith has a hard time opening his eyes anyway.  He just wants to sleep.  He’s probably got work; the thought is crushing.

He shifts in his bed and stops.  The sheets feel different against his skin.  They don’t scratch and irritate.  They’re... silk?  The smell in the air is...not home.  It’s softly floral and pleasant, but unfamiliar.  And the sounds...  It’s a different kind of quiet than usual.  Not as compact.  Spacious.  He can’t hear kids playing outside or dogs barking.

That means...

He’s afraid to open up his eyes.  Afraid of what he’ll see...or won’t see.  He imagines last night’s dream was too good to repeat, he wants to go back to sleep and fall back into it, but he’s too awake now; he prepares himself to be devastated.

He opens his eyes...

And sees Shiro, resting on his side, head propped up by his hand as he watches Keith.  He smiles warmly as Keith looks him over, brain locking up in confusion.  

“Hey,” Shiro say softly.

He’s close.  It’s incredibly intimate.

Keith presses himself up quickly, taking in a deep sharp breath.  “Where are we?”

Shiro’s eyebrows rise as his gaze follows Keith up, worry setting in.  “Do you...do you not remember...?”

Keith looks over at the tone in Shiro’s voice.  Already his face is starting to cave in on itself as if his greatest fears are realized.

Keith stutters, scrambling to do damage control.  “N-no!  It’s not that, I was just...”  He tosses his hands into the air as he comes up empty with what to say. “For the last time, I told you I wasn’t that drunk!”

Shiro laughs in relief, pressing his hands to his face.  He pops up to sit beside Keith.  “Why would you ask where we were then? To give me a heart attack??”

“No,” Keith laughs helplessly.  He leans forward and grabs both of Shiro’s hands with his just because he can.  They’re just as soft and warm as he remembered and it makes him want to laugh again, like a child, without restraint, because he’s so incredibly happy.  He plays with each of Shiro's fingers. “I was momentarily confused, okay?  It's not every morning I wake up beside you in some fancy hotel.”

Shiro hangs his head, still chuckling in tortured relief.  “I was so scared you’d forgotten everything.”

“I had like three glasses last night.”

“Yeah, but they were glasses of mystery substance from _Lance_.”

“Pfft.  Lance wouldn’t do anything to me.  But even if I got amnesia, I already confessed and you know now that I’ve liked you since forever.  Is the rest so hard?”

“Yes.  You’re asking me that?  I almost died last night, several times over.”

Keith laughs.  “...Yeah, I guess that’s true.  I’m worth it, though, right?”

Shiro laughs too and the room is warm and golden and full of life and light.  “Yeah.  You are.”  He sits up, sliding backwards so he’s leaning against the soft pillows.  He taps Keith on the back.  “Hey.  I never finished with the what if game last night.”

“No?”  Keith scoots back beside him, falling onto the pillows with a big puff.  “Okay.  Let’s keep going then.”

“Okay.  We last ended with the kiss.”  Shiro smiles.  Keith grins up in return, reaching over to lace their hands together.  “So, uh, what if...what if I decided to quit being a doctor?  Right now.  Moved here for good.”

Keith looks over and Shiro looks back.  There’s shock in the air at first, and then soft understanding runs between them and Keith allows himself to smile.  He presses his face into Shiro’s neck and hums.  “What if...we rented a space downtown where all those old time buildings are, you know, where they have the Christmas Market with all the lights?  You open a flower shop, but it’s half cafe too.  We can have some pastries and bread and brownies -”

“- _Yes_ ,” Shiro breathes, enchanted, “And chocolate strawberries and something with candy canes -”

“Of course,” Keith laughs, bumping his shoulder against Shiro’s.  “But you can’t eat them all or we won’t have anything to sell.”

“I’ll restrain myself,” Shiro promises, but Keith still doesn’t believe him and can barely press his laughter down.  “You can teach me how you make your drinks so good.  I’ll be able to help you out then.”

“And you can show me how to arrange bouquets and grow plants.  I’ve sort of got a brown thumb.”

“Nothing that can’t be taught,” Shiro hums happily.  “And you can paint the walls...whatever you want.  Your art’s beautiful, Keith, the world should see it.”

“What would you want me to paint?”

“Anything you want.  I’d be so happy with anything.”

“Together.  I want us to paint something together.  Something Ghibli-like.  Like the fields in Howl’s Moving Castle.  The forest spirits, the little people, cats, river dragons.  Anything, everything.”

Shiro nods, eyes wide as he sees it.  A little breathless, he asks, “And then what?”

“And then...if you like our little flower shop cafe hybrid, we keep it, and if you don’t, we can move to the city and you can try out being a doctor again if you want, or try out whatever else you think you might like.”

“Really?”  Shiro asks and his face is crumpling again, eyes filling with tears, but he’s happy this time.  

Keith laughs as he rolls onto his side and wipes Shiro’s tears away.  He smiles down at him.  “Of course.”

“Keith, what about you?  What are your dreams?  If you could do anything you want to do?  Anything in the world, nothing held back?”

“Me?”  He says in surprise.  He bites his lip and thinks about it.  “I don’t know.  I guess I just want to be happy.”

“Anything.  Anything at all.”

“Ah...  Well, I mean, I used to think about illustration.  Like doing children’s storybooks, you know, but I mean, you always hear it’s a useless degree and -”

“-Done.”

“What?”

“Let’s do it.  I’ll help you.  We’ll look up the best colleges and sign you up for financial aid and scholarships and -”  Shiro’s eyes are bright and he’s leaning in close to Keith, breathing him in as he wraps his arms around him and brings him in close.  They fall off the pillows, laughing together.

“Keith, you’re so good.  Your art is so good.  I’ve never seen anything like it and you’ve had no training.  Imagine with some guidance what it can develop into...  Keith.  It’s already so amazing.  I want to see the things you can continue to do.”

“Uh, y-yeah?  I mean.  Yeah, that’d be cool.”  He bites his lip as he pushes himself up on Shiro’s chest.  He’s sprawled out over him completely and if you’d asked him about it the day before, he would’ve told you there’d be no way in hell that they could feel this comfortable this soon.  Yet, here they are.  “Uh, are we still playing the what if game?”

Shiro laughs and grabs Keith’s hands into his.  He brings them to his face and kisses each finger, humming happily.  “It’s called the ‘what if and let’s do it’ game.”

Keith stares for a few moments and then bursts out laughing.  “God, you’re crazy.  You have so much motivation, how could I possibly keep up?”  He hums, thinking to himself.  “...But I like it.  I like the idea.  I’ve always wanted to.”

“Right? It'll be amazing.”

“I want to be close to you though,” Keith murmurs.  “We’ve been apart for so long as it is...”

“Let’s look at our options,” Shiro says, leaning over to grab his phone from the nightstand.  He brings it to his face and starts clicking away.  “Here's a school two hours away.  Hm!  Looks nice.”

Keith looks up at him, watching his excited face.

Shiro looks down.  “Uh,” he laughs.  “Too fast?”

“...Yeah.”  He rolls off of him and slides over to his side of the bed, patting the space next to him.

He rubs the back of his head in embarrassment and puts his phone away.  “You’re right.  I’m getting ahead of myself.  I’m just excited...”

“We can think about it all later.  Right now we have this suite to enjoy.  I just woke up, I’m sleepy, I’m comfortable, you’re here.  Life is good.”

“Life is good,” Shiro chuckles, settling in beside Keith so they’re snug, fitting together like pieces of a puzzle.  “We should’ve done this ages ago,” Shiro says.  “I still can’t believe it’s really happening.”

“Mm,” Keith hums, stretching out like a kitten.  He rolls onto his side, leaning his head on Shiro’s shoulder.  “It’ll be hard, you know...  With me.  I have my depression.  My anxiety attacks.  It’s a lot.”

“I know,” Shiro says.  “I’ll be there for you.  I want to learn how to be able to help you.”

“Me too,” Keith says.  “I want to be able to help you too.  If you ever need me...”

“I know.  You give me strength, Keith.  I know I can always come to you.”

Keith inhales.  He feels happy.  Cherished.  Everything’s golden and glowing.

Shiro’s phone buzzes and he groans, curling into Keith and letting it go.  

Keith laughs, snuggling up to him.  It feels so nice.  He’s been touch starved for so long, each little bit of contact is another bandage to his soul.

The buzzing stops and Shiro sighs happily, letting his head sag onto Keith’s.

“Ow,” Keith complains right as the phone begins to vibrate again.

“Dang it,” Shiro grunts, shifting and trying to untangle their limbs as he gets up.  “Sorry.  I should’ve turned it off.”

“I don’t mind.”

He slaps his hand against the dresser and falls back beside Keith, pulling him into his arms.

“Hey, Matt,” he says.  “On your way over?”

Keith can hear him through the speaker, voice loud.  “Nope.  How was your night?”  His voice is suggestive.

Shiro’s face bleeds red as he looks down at Keith and presses his lips together.  In a perfectly neutral voice, he says, “it was fine.  Yours?”

“What?!”  Matt squawks.  “Tell me what happened!  Is Keith still there?”

Shiro presses a hand to his face and tries to hold back a laugh.  He has the worst poker face.  He clears his throat.  “He’s here,” he says.

“Tell me what happened!  I’ve been dying all night.  Did you get my texts?  Allura told me not to text you, but I couldn’t _not_.  You haven’t responded.  I need to know what happened!”

“No, sorry.  I was trying to get some work done and then I fell asleep early and didn’t check.”

“Early?!   _Work_?!  You’re killing me here!  Allura and I gave you a perfect opportunity and everything to woo Keith.  Sweep him off his feet!  Tell me you didn’t ruin it!  Where is he?  You still can have your chance!  Tell him now!”

“You ruined my car on purpose, didn’t you?  I knew it!  You little rat!”

“Rat?  Shiro, I was doing you a favor here,” Matt laughs, voice dark and devious.  “If Allura or I have to hear you pining over Keith one more day, I swear, we’re going to lose it.”

“How do I fix my car?”  Shiro says impatiently, giving Keith’s arm a squeeze as he laughs into Shiro’s chest, pressing a hand to his mouth.  “Or are you coming over?”

“It’s one wire under the dashboard.  One teeny tiny wire.  You just connect it.  You’ll see it if you get a flashlight under there.”

“I can’t believe you.”

“But don’t leave before you tell him!  He’s so totally into you too.  You should see the way he looks at you.  Allura and I were trying to get photos but he moved every time we went to take it and they’re all blurry.  Allura _almost_ got a good one, but some person moved in the way at the last second.  But his face, Shiro!  It almost made me feel like _I_ was in love with you.”

“You’re such a creepy stalker.  I’ve got to go.  I think I hear him leaving now.”

“What?!  Shiro, run!  Go get him!”

Shiro laughs, turning the phone off and setting it down.  He looks over at Keith.  “I want to be mad at him, but I can’t.”

Keith is smiling too, feeling shy again.  “...If it weren’t for him, we'd be at our houses right now, alone.”

Shiro grins brightly.  “I’ll thank him later, but right now, we’ll let him suffer.”  

Keith chuckles softly, tracing patterns into Shiro’s robe.  

“Our time’s up for this room in a few hours,” Shiro says, nudging him.  “Your last chance for the bath.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“I’m kind of surprised you didn’t haul the blankets and pillows off the bed and into the tub last night, honestly.  Your eyes grew as big as your whole face when you saw it.  You looked like you were nine again.  I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you that excited actually.  It was cute.”

“Cute,” Keith mumbles, pushing himself up and rubbing his nose to hide the blush.  “Well, there is that fountain.”

“Go get it,” Shiro laughs, patting Keith on the back.

He slips off the bed and hesitates.  Would it be too forward to ask Shiro to the bath with him?  It’d just be a question and he could totally refuse, but...

Keith bites his lip.  

He knows they’re adults, but Shiro’s different.  He doesn’t want to rush this, doesn’t need to.  He doesn’t know if he’s ready now that he’s sharp-minded and aware after waking up.  Laying in bed is one thing, trying to seduce his childhood crush into the bath completely self-aware is another.  His confidence from last night has fizzled and he’s just Keith again, awkward and embarrassing.  It’s a disaster waiting to happen.

Maybe another time...  He retreats to the bathroom, snatching his clothes up, and closes the door.

The bath is beautiful, it is, but it pales in comparison to being at Shiro’s side.  He hasn’t even started it yet and he’s already wanting to shove his clothes on and call it a day.

He’s leaning over the side and tapping the faucet on when there’s a knock at the door.

“You forgot your towel,” Shiro says through the door.

“Oh,” Keith says, turning to the counter and noticing he’s right.  “Thanks, just a sec.”

He swings the door open and there’s Shiro, standing there with his usual smile, holding the towel out.  “An important thing for a bath.”

“Ha, yeah,” Keith says, taking it into his hands. “Thanks.”

“Mmhmm,” Shiro says.  He reaches around Keith’s head and wiggles his ponytail, eyes glowing, enchanted.  “You have your hair up.”

“Oh, yeah.  I just washed it last night, so...”

“It looks good,” Shiro says softly.  

He waits outside the door.  

Keith waits inside the door.  

They’re both just standing there.  Keith knows what he wants - he wants to grab Shiro by the collar and tug him inside, catch his mouth with his and kiss him until they’re gasping for breath.

What does Shiro want?

But then, Keith thinks, his second-guessing was what got him into trouble in the first place, all those years ago.  Hasn’t he learned his lesson yet?  

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip.  “Think I’m still drunk?”

Shiro blinks down innocently at first, tilting his head like he can’t comprehend why Keith would be asking that, but then understanding lights up his eyes.  His cheeks blush red and he rubs the back of his head with his hand.  “Uh, have you been sneaking drinks while I was asleep?”

Keith laughs.  “I dunno.  Does it seem like it?”

Shiro shakes his head slowly, eyes carefully finding their way back to Keith.  They hold each other’s gaze.  The air is sharp, prickling at their skin as they hang on the edge of a moment.

Keith asks, softly, “...Want to come in?”

“Um...”  Shiro’s cheeks are blood red.  He bites his lip.  Shifts from one foot to the other.  “I...Is that okay?”

Keith takes his time, nodding deliberately.  “If you’re okay with it.”

“Okay,” Shiro breathes.

“Okay,” Keith says, taking a step back and letting Shiro step through.

He does, shoulders hunched over like he’s trying to make himself look small.  And just a few minutes ago, they were rolling around in each other’s arms, it seems almost funny.

Keith says, “I want to tell you that you have no reason to be nervous, but that’d be really hypocritical because my heart’s fluttering like a little bird.”

“Is it?”  Shiro laughs as he turns.  He takes a small step forward.  “Can I feel?”

Keith nods, taking a few steps forward of his own.  They meet halfway and Shiro rests his hand on Keith’s robe, right above his heart.

“Wow,” Shiro chuckles.  He reaches for Keith’s hand and gently places it over his own.  “I think yours might be winning.”

“They’re close,” Keith laughs, letting himself close his eyes and lean forward, pressing his forehead against Shiro’s shoulder.  “...Are you alright if I kiss you?”

He can hear Shiro swallowing hard.  He lets out a small, “of course.”

Keith has to go on his tip toes to reach him, but Shiro bends over for him, leaning in, nervous smile across his face.  

Keith closes the distance.  He inhales sharply as they make contact.  He’s not sure if he’ll ever get used to the feeling.  Maybe Shiro does have the magic of a time machine because Keith feels transported to another place, safe and with the person he loves.  

Shiro’s hands reach up for his hair again, weaving his fingers across his scalp, holding him steady, and Keith lets out a content sigh.  He legs turn to jelly and he fights not to just become putty in Shiro’s hands right then and there.  Kissing Shiro feels so good.  Mouth moving against mouth. He never knew.  Every moment of his life that he’s spent not doing this has been such a tragedy.

The water is still going in the background.  It has been for awhile, and though Keith would love nothing more than to continue kissing Shiro’s beautiful mouth, he doesn’t want the water to go over the top.

Keith breaks away briefly and bites his lip, tasting the feeling of Shiro there.  He’s standing on the tips of his toes, body flush against Shiro’s, arms wrapped around him like a vice.  It’s hard to even think of letting go and pulling back into the cold.  Shiro lets out a disappointed exhale as he does.  He slips out of Shiro’s hold, walks over to the faucet and kicks it off.  

He stands there for a moment, feet rooted to the spot, hands playing with the edges of his robe as he continues to bite at his lip.  

Shiro watches him from a distance.  He says, softly,  “...I can look away.”

“No,” Keith breathes.  He can feel Shiro’s eyes on him as they stand feet apart.  He feels vulnerable beneath that gaze, but it’s in a good way.  These are secrets he wants to share with Shiro and only Shiro.

He’s on the edge of the bridge, handing Shiro the rope, about to jump off.

He trusts him.  He trusts him with everything.

He takes a deep breath and undoes the tie at his waist, carefully pulling the robe off.  It pools at his feet and then it’s just him.  It’s just Keith.  

He can’t look at Shiro’s reaction.  He can feel himself growing red and he knows that means his neck is changing too, and probably his chest.  

“Keith,” Shiro calls softly, voice low and rich, velvet.  “Look at me.”

Keith gathers courage and shifts, eyes fluttering up.

“You’re beautiful,” Shiro whispers, voice raw.

He clutches his fingers together tightly and lets out a small nervous laugh.  “Thanks, Shiro.  ...I know...I know it’s ridiculous, but, um...I’ve never...done this.  Never.  The most I did was with Lance and...it didn’t get far.”  He’s breathless.  Wants to run.  He twists his hands together, reminding himself of Shiro when he was little and nervous.  It’s overwhelming and he’s not sure how Shiro had managed to smile through it at such a young age.  All Keith can do is cringe.

Shiro steps forward, placing his hands over Keith’s.  “This feels all new to me too,” he admits softly.  “It’s different.  It’s you.  It’s...”  He takes a deep breath.  “It’s okay.  If you want me to leave -”

“-No.  Definitely not.  I’m just...nervous.”

“Yeah,” Shiro says.  “Me too.”

It’s warm in the room.  Steam is floating off the top of the water and coating the mirrors, blanketing them in its obscurity.  It helps ease Keith just a little.

He tries to steady his hands as he reaches up for Shiro’s collar, running his finger along the inside of it, tugging it loose.

He looks up, imploring with his eyes.

Shiro takes in an unsteady breath and nods, reaching his hand up to hold Keith’s.  Together, they undo the tie and Keith runs his fingers over the top of the robe, pulling it away.

There are scars.  Deep gashes that are healed over, years old.

Keith looks up, surprise in his eyes, questions.

Shiro places a hand over them, as if he’s trying to hide them, but his hands are no match.  The scars tear around his bicep and across his chest, the skin discolored and marred.

“Car accident,” Shiro murmurs.  “It’s gross, I know.  I’m sorry.”

“It’s not gross.”  Keith, watching for any sign of resistance, carefully places his hand over the wounds, skimming his finger over the ridges.  “It looks painful though...”

“It was, for awhile.  I almost lost my arm.”

Keith’s eyes dim as he continues to look, imagining it at the peak of the injury.  He wasn’t there.  

Shiro’s hand hovers over the inside of Keith’s forearms.  “You have scars too.”

Keith had forgotten about those.  His first instinct is to pull away.  He does, for a second.  He feels as if he’s been burned.  But, as Shiro’s hands reflexively reach out to follow him, Keith reflexively allows him to catch up.  

“Keith,” he whispers, pained. “Are those-?”

Shiro’s touch tickles against the gouges in his flesh and his eyes flicker up to Keith's, wide and vulnerable.

They’re not as bad as they had once been, but they’re obvious and they’re brutal.  They map out a time when Keith was seeking any form of comfort, and he had found it in this.  

He's quiet as he watches. “I did it...but I'm okay.”

There's concern in Shiro’s eyes, but it softens the more he looks at Keith's face. “...There’s a lot we missed about each other.”

Shiro gently raises Keith’s wrist up to his mouth.  He places delicate deliberate kisses upon each and every scar, treating them with such softness.

Keith has never treated himself with softness.  Seeing it, feeling it...this hurts more than the actual wounds had, cutting deep into his heart, leaving him more bare than he already is.

His heart’s bleeding over, unfamiliar with this form of gentle unadulterated love.  He just watches, transfixed, as Shiro kisses away the darkness of his past.

Tears fall from his eyes and he lets them.  He doesn’t move to wipe them away.

It’s a while before Shiro pulls back, placing his hand over Keith’s scars, as if that could soothe them away.

Keith looks back at Shiro’s scars.  Their pasts have both hurt them in different ways, violently enough to leave physical reminders.  “Does it still hurt?”

“No.”  He murmurs.  “Do yours?”

Keith shakes his head gently.  “...No.”

Shiro slips his grip to Keith’s hands and he leads them into the tub.  He steps in first but doesn’t sit.  He waits to help Keith in.

A shy smile crosses Keith’s face as they step apart.  The distance gives Keith a better view and he can see all of Shiro, arm still held out, waiting for Keith to follow.  He’s stripped completely bare, just Shiro.  As if Shiro could be anywhere close to “just Shiro”, of course.

“You can look,” Shiro says.  

He does.

God-like seems like a cutdown in comparison to how Shiro looks.  It’s like Mother Earth saved all the beauty and effort into sculpting this one perfect body, this one perfect creature and here he is, standing in front of Keith, hand extended.  Even being the artist that Keith is, having studied nude models online and grown comfortable with the beauty of human curves and lines, seeing how gorgeous Shiro is comes as a shock. There isn’t any way Keith could’ve ever made this sort of beauty up.  

He wants to just sit down in the middle of the floor, grab a sketchbook, and start drawing Shiro from every angle.  Immortalize this moment.

He hasn’t felt the urge to draw in ages.

He’s in awe.  Shiro is the sun.  

“Okay,” Shiro laughs, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment as time passes.  His eyes have shied away.  “Um...”

Keith blinks from his stupor.  “Jesus, Shiro.”

“Uh...what?”

He breathes out a laugh.  “I thought you said you didn’t have time for the gym anymore.”

Shiro pauses for a second and then chokes on laughter.  “Keith.   _Come here_.”  He opens his arms wide.

How can Keith resist a sight like that?  He steps over the side of the bathtub and succumbs to Shiro’s embrace, holding him back, body pressed against body.

Keith feels like he’s overheating already.  He wishes he weren’t so nervous so he could properly enjoy this, but there’s also something nice about the sharpness their uncertainty gives them.  Everything is new, everything feels sensitive and real.  His attention is absorbing every tiny detail, minor or not.

Having Shiro’s arms around him, holding him firmly, is beyond amazing.  Keith is swallowed whole and he's cozy like nothing else, protected and sheltered from all the evils of the outside world.  He could live the rest of his life with just this and he’d be the luckiest man on the planet.

But Shiro pats his back and sits the both of them down, submerging beneath the water to his chest.  Shiro’s bigger than Keith by a lot apparently, and he takes up an entire side to himself.  Keith takes the opposite side and their legs cross in the middle.  

He’s not sure if he wants to thank God or curse him for giving him the idea to add bubbles to the water.  

He presses his hand to the side of his face as he watches Shiro and Shiro watches him.  They just sit there in silence for a few moments, quietly staring each other down. When the moment stretches on too long, they snort and laugh.

“I’m waiting for my heart to calm down,” Shiro explains, “but it’s not happening.”

Keith makes a small strangled noise of agreement in the back of his throat as he nods quickly.  

He clears his throat and points at Shiro.  “Can I sit by you?”  Space or not, Keith knows he’s got to make it work.  The distance is killing him.

Shiro nods.  Keith crawls over and squeezes himself next to Shiro, nearly sitting on his lap.  Shiro offers his hand and they lace their fingers, both smiling like lovestruck idiots at each other.

Keith says softly, “If you had told me yesterday something like this would’ve happened, I would not have believed you no matter what.”

Shiro chuckles.  “Me neither.  Would you still have come, if you knew?”

“Are you kidding me?  I probably would’ve had several panic attacks while I waited, but nothing would’ve been able to stop me.  I would’ve crawled if I had to.”

Shiro laughs, moving his arm over Keith’s shoulders and pulling him in closer.  Keith fits perfectly there.  He’s snug and warm and happy.  He leans his head on Shiro’s chest with a content hum.

“Hey, Shiro?  I just want you to know...valid for eternity, we don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.  I want you to always tell me if I’m being too much.  Okay?”

“Okay.  Last night was just nerves though...I can’t imagine a situation where I’ll ever want to reject you.”

Keith snorts.  “Well, unless I’m drunk, of course.  Since I was acting _so crazy_.”

“Okay!”  Water sloshes as Shiro pulls Keith in close and wraps his arms around him tighter for a closer hug.  Keith’s on his lap.  He’s sitting on his lap, naked.  “You were so quiet and polite the entire reunion, and suddenly, you were laughing and cracking jokes.  I love it, don’t get me wrong - it’s wonderful to see you happy - but I didn’t want to take advantage of you.  I never want that.”

Keith sits up and kisses Shiro on the cheek.  His breathing is shallow.  “I’m just teasing you.  I appreciate your thoughtfulness, I really do.  You’re the perfect gentleman.”  

He sits up and looks Shiro right in the eyes.  “I promise you I’m not drunk right now.”

“I know,” Shiro smiles, reaching his hand up and sliding it through Keith’s hair.  He looks down at his mouth fondly.  

He kisses Keith.

Maybe it’ll always be like this.  Like fireworks and the moon and the stars and the cosmos.  It’s like music running through their bodies, being shared through them, giving them light.  Keith feels like he’s ascending.  

Maybe they’ll grow comfortable with it one day, settling into their places beside one another with perfect ease, as if they’ve always been there.

Keith’s happy either way.  It’s like magic, the two of them.  It’s a flame igniting in his soul that’s been dormant and dark for so long, burning away the spider webs in his heart.

He kisses Shiro back with total blissful abandon, holding Shiro’s face between his two hands.  He’s so much.  So beautiful in his heart and his body.  Keith wants to hold all of him at once.  Wants to take him into himself and be whole together.  

He moves, tossing his leg over Shiro’s and settling into his lap so they’re facing.

“This okay?”  He breathes as he pulls back for air for a moment.

Shiro nods quickly, closing the distance between them again with a small eager breath.  He bites the bottom of Keith’s lip and shifts back, so Keith falls on top of him.

Shiro’s hard.  Keith’s sitting right on him and it’s far more intimate than it had ever been those many years ago with Lance.  They had just been kids basically, only seeking release.  This is different, this is Shiro.  They’re emotionally connected, complexly so; Keith is weaved in and out through Shiro and his light that each touch feels like he’s igniting.  

This is almost too much.  Shiro’s choppy breathing and desperate grabbing makes Keith think that it’s the same for him.  They’re drowning in each other.

Shiro’s hands reach down his back, underneath his thighs, parting them slightly wider.  

Keith shudders against him.  “I-I’ve never -”

“Me neither,” Shiro breaths against his mouth.  “Not like this.”

Keith nods, leaning his face against the side of Shiro’s.  His cheek is on Shiro’s ear as he breathes, breathes.  In and out.

Shiro’s voice drops so low and soft Keith almost doesn’t catch it even as close as they are.  “Do you want this?”

Permission.  Everything Shiro does, he does with respect for Keith and Keith finds his heart fluttering even harder at that.  He nods his head eagerly.  

Shiro hands are careful as he shifts Keith’s hips and Keith moves with him, pliant beneath his touch.  Shiros’ fingers are long and careful as they ghost over the length of Keith’s shaft.  He curls his hand around the both of them.

God.

Keith thought he was prepared for this, but he’s not.  It’s so much.  His senses are blazing with light, pushing out everything else inside of him.

A small whimper escapes Keith, coming from deep inside his core.  He wraps his arms around Shiro’s shoulders and presses his face into his skin.  

“You okay...?”

“I’m not going to last,” Keith warns on a breath, almost embarrassed about it if his mind wasn’t so boggled, focus completely on the sensation of being touched.  

It’s different.  It’s so different.  He knew it would be, but feeling it, experiencing it...  

“God, Shiro.”  He trembles.

His hand’s moving against them, gentle and slow.  It’s not at all what Keith had pictured those nights when he had laid in bed alone, mind full of Shiro.  He thought it’d be hard and fast, time having accumulated and built up inside of them so frustratingly high that they both would consume each other until they combust in each other’s arms.

It’s not like that.

“It’s okay,” Shiro whispers, his other hand still in Keith’s hair, running through it gently like he’s something special, something precious.  “It’s okay.”

This is so soft.  So full of love and tenderness Keith’s paralyzed against him.  It’s a gentleness that’s so uniquely Shiro.  Like a bird’s soft heartbeat in the palm of your hand.  Delicate.  Precious.

His hand, the same hands he uses to care for people, the same hands he used to reach out for Keith all these years, to show Keith how to draw, to sneak all the strawberries at the banquet.  

Shiro’s hands.  

On Keith, having chosen him, him out of so many other people, and sharing this moment together.  

His hand strokes firmly over them, up and down, steady and patient.

The pace is almost frustrating, but Keith can’t do anything else but be bewitched by it.  It raises him higher and higher until he’s whimpering fragments of Shiro’s name, begging him.

He’s moving helplessly with Shiro, small soft gasps escaping him as he clings tightly to Shiro’s back, wrapping his arms and legs around him as close as he can get, digging his hands into his hair, his neck, his back.  He seeks out Shiro’s lips, capturing him in an open-mouthed kiss that Shiro returns with a soft groan.

“Shiro,” he calls his name like a plea.  “Shiro, please...”

Shiro’s grip tightens around them, pressing them together hard enough to make Keith choke.  One firm stroke upward, thumb rubbing over the head, pressing in with the gentlest of pressure and Keith can’t take it anymore.

“Keith,” Shiro whispers.  The sound is so raw, so torn from the depths of his soul.

It is Keith’s undoing.  Despite everything, the intensity of it still takes him by surprise. 

He comes hard.

It hits him like a wave.  He’s gone, gone, gone, drowning beneath the depths of the ocean.  It’s another world, bathed in moonlight, the water’s surface sprinkled with stars.

Keith lets go.  He lets himself succumb to those waters, lets himself just _feel_.  He feels everything, currents running through his body, his heart, his soul. 

Shiro’s right there with him, Keith can feel him coming in pulses.  He's beside him, holding him up, sharing the same air, breathing his name. 

When he comes back to himself, he’s breathing hard.  He had been clinging to Shiro’s body like he was trying to press through and into him, but he realizes now that it’s borderline painful and he forces himself to let go.  His energy’s expended.  He slips down onto Shiro, limbs and spirit obliterated by the intensity of it, and he’s just floating, languid.  

He can’t even think.  He just lays there, wholly content.  There’s no noise in his head, no buzzing anxious thoughts or dark feelings trying to cling at him and pull him down.  He’s just Keith, completely happy for the first time in years.  So he just lays there, soaking it in, ear pressed to Shiro’s chest, listening to the sound of his gentle heart.

“Keith,” Shiro pants. “ _Keith_...”

Keith wraps his arms around his waist and hums.

Neither of them move for a long while.  Shiro’s hand stays on the back of Keith’s head, cradling him with care.  His other hand is placed on Keith’s lower back.  They fit.  They fit so well.

Keith’s not sure how long they’re there for.  Shiro begins to brush his fingers slowly through Keith’s hair and he enjoys it, slowly blinking back to himself.

Finally, Shiro asks softly,  “Are you alright?”  

“So good...”  Keith mutters.  His brain is still having a hard time catching up.

He pushes himself up enough so he can see Shiro’s face, but he doesn’t dare go too far lest he leave the bubble of comfort surrounding them.  It’s too wonderful to leave yet.  He reaches up and touches Shiro’s shoulder, prompting him to shift forward.

“Ah,” he murmurs softly, brow divoting.  There are red marks across his back.  They look painful and angry.  

“I don't mind,” Shiro hums, craning his neck to look with Keith.  “It was amazing, Keith.  I felt...”  He lets out a long breath and lets his head rest against the side of Keith’s.  Keith hums and reaches a hand up to gently touch his face.  “It felt...like everything was right.  Like my whole life has been leading to this one moment, here, with you. All those years of waiting were worth it to be here with you now.”  He leans back so he can look into Keith’s eyes.  “This was so much more than anything I'd ever dreamed of.  And I did, " he laughs quietly, "for so many years. You’re everything to me.”

Keith cups Shiro’s face in his hands.  

He looks at Shiro.  Just looks.  He’s beautiful, Keith’s always thought that, and he’s never felt like he’s had the permission to just sit and appreciate.  

There are laughter lines near the ends of his eyes.  Keith smiles as he touches a finger to one, tracing it across Shiro’s skin.  

He’s so good.  He’s light itself, held between Keith’s two small palms.  

Keith’s heart is so full it’s going to burst.  It pours from his chest and ghosts over his lips.  “I love you.”

Shiro’s inhale is sharp.  He freezes, pupils blown wide.  He hangs on the tip of a moment, forgetting how to breathe, completely still.  Keith waits, perfectly content as he sees all of Shiro’s little reactions, sees his mouth part and eyes begin to glisten.  

Shiro blinks away a tear, rubbing it away with one hand, and then another one comes, and another, and he can’t keep up trying to wipe them all away.  He’s crying, fully now, tiny little drops falling down his cheeks and quivering through the water.  “I love you,” he whispers through his tears.

He reaches forward and gathers Keith into a hug, pressing their bodies together so there’s no space between them.  He buries his face into Keith’s chest as he cries.

“I love you,” Keith murmurs into his hair, brushing it away from Shiro’s forehead tenderly.

“I love you,” Shiro says.  He’s getting tears and snot all over Keith’s skin, but Keith is so helplessly enchanted all he can do is chuckle and hold him.

The lighting is so soft, their touches, comfortable and slow, savoring the moment, full of love.  Everything is warm and right and whole.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you...”

They hold each other for a long time, whispering sweet nothings in the other's ear.  The maid knocks on the door, but they don’t hear it because they’re still there, holding each other, together.

 

“Hey,” Keith says, right before he goes out the door.  He has his phone balanced in one hand and Shiro’s car keys in the other.  “I want to take a picture of you.  My dad wants to see how nice this suite is but he hates it when I don’t include people in the image.  He says it’s -” he raises his hands and makes air quotations “ - impersonal.”

Shiro laughs as he pulls his jacket over his shoulders. He looks so damn sharp Keith can't help but watch.  “On one condition.  Let’s take one together.”

“Oh,” Keith says in surprise.  “Okay.  I like that even better.  The steps sound good?”  

Shiro stands beside him, placing his hand on his back.  

Keith cringes, scowling down at his phone.  “I hate selfies.”

“Here,” Shiro says, taking the phone from him.  “I have longer arms.”  He holds it up and says, “smiiileee.”  It clicks and he brings it in to look at it.  “Perfect. You look beautiful.”

Keith hums happily, leaning on his toes to kiss Shiro on the cheek.  He grabs his phone back and sets it as his background.

“One for Matt?”  Shiro says.

“Oh,” Keith chuckles, looking up.  “You’re going to tell him, huh?”

“Can’t keep him in the dark forever.  He’ll kill me.  He’s been waiting for this nearly as long as I have.  Granted, he was a bit more pessimistic about it than I was, but...  One by the window?”

Keith laughs.  “Sure.  Can I flip him off?”

Shiro snorts.  “Why not?  He deserves it for messing with my car.  I’m going to have to buy him something though, for what he’s done for us.”

Shiro takes the picture and Keith has fun flipping him off.  He jumps when Shiro kisses him on his cheek mid-flash.  

" _You."_ Keith takes the camera from him, approving the picture. In it, he's still grinning with fire as Shiro's lips are pressed against his cheek, eyes closed, looking totally completely in love. 

Keith's embarrassed, but it's too good to reject.  He sends it to himself before handing it back.

As he passes it over, he catches sight of the little finger in the corner of the image that's not his. He gasps. Shiro is flipping off the camera too. 

“Mr. Shirogane,” he laughs in mock horror.  “I didn’t know you had it in you!”

“For Matt, of course I do.”

Keith laughs, smiling warmly as he follows Shiro to the door.  

“Okay,” Keith says, looking around one last time.  The skylight is bright during the day, making everything look razor sharp and full of color.  The stars are gone, but Keith can still feel them twinkling inside himself.  He smiles.  “Goodbye, beautiful suite.”

“Goodbye,” Shiro says too.

“Goodbye, sweet fountain.”

“And you called _me_ a diva?”  Shiro mutters lowly out of the side of his mouth.  He laughs when Keith takes the bait, jumping on him.

Keith pokes him in the nose and the cheeks.  “Hey!  Take a look at my bathtub at home and you’ll understand why I love this so much.”

“You know,” Shiro says.  “There's no need to say goodbye to it. We have one of those at my grandfather’s house.”

Keith’s eyebrows hike up to the sky as he slides off Shiro’s back.  “Do you really?”

“Yeah, my grandfather used to own an onsen back in Japan and he missed it when he came here.  His bathroom’s oddly out of place in comparison to the rest of the house, but you can use it whenever you want.”

“You probably shouldn’t have told me that.  You’ll never get me to leave.”

“Then my plan’s working.”

Keith laughs.  

He turns to walk out of there, when he catches sight of himself in one of the mirrors hanging on the wall.  He stops.

It’s him.  The same black hair, pale ghostly skin, and weird purple eyes, but he looks different.  He can’t explain it.  It’s been just one night; it doesn’t make sense.

He’s “just Keith” still, like he’s always been, but it’s like the tarnish has been polished off.  There’s light in his eyes.  For the first time in sixteen years, the raging storm inside of him is still.  

Shiro reaches out a hand for him.  “Ready?”

He turns from his reflection, letting out a small laugh.  He weaves his hand through Shiro’s as they close the door behind them.  He doesn’t look back.  The suite is beautiful, the best room he has ever been in, but that doesn't matter to Keith.

He has all he wants right here.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiro loves you, baby.
> 
> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧ Come chat with me on my[ T W I T T E R](https://twitter.com/go__begreat)*:・ﾟ✧


	6. Chapter 6

“You’re going to fall.”

“I’m not going to fall.”

“Keith.  I’m telling you.  You’re making me nervous.  Get down here.”

“I’m not done yet.”

“I don’t want to bring your concussed little head to the hospital when you hit it against the floor.  It looks perfect; you worry too much.  I’m telling you, it’s finished.”

“Just...one more second.”

Shiro groans, leaning his head back against the wall as he holds the ladder securely in place.  “It’s going to really hurt when I use my body to cushion your fall.  I might break a bone or three.”

“ _Okay_ ,” Keith grumbles, stepping down carefully.  He reaches out and dabs Shiro’s face with his paintbrush on the way down.

“ _Keith_.”

Keith laughs as he reaches solid ground.  He takes out his phone and snaps a quick picture of Shiro before can protest.  “I got your forelock.  It kinda looks good.  Look.  You’ll make a good old man.”

“White paint in my hair,” Shiro despairs before looking closer.  “You know...you’re kinda right.  It works somehow, doesn’t it?”

Keith shrugs.  “Maybe it can be your thing.”

“I think I’m alright,” he says as he tries to pull it out of his hair and rub it from his forehead.  

Keith’s taking a few steps back, staring up at the ceiling.  

“What’d I tell you?”  Shiro says, standing next to him.  “It looks great, doesn’t it?  I have an eye for these things, you know.”

Keith nods, tilting his head thoughtfully.  “I know.”  

It does look good.  He feels proud about his art for once.  He’s poured a lot of hours and heart into it and it’s finally done, all come together.

They’re in their cafe in the downtown street they’d talked about.  The place was gutted when they first bought it, but when you have two artists on the job, it’s bound to look amazing some time or another.

Keith loves it.  From the flourishing flowers framing the windows, absorbing the warmth of the sunlight, to the cute wooden seats set at their matching tables, all the way down to their counter, hand carved by Keith.  

Shiro helped him paint the walls.  They’re filled with fields of flowers, blooming trees off in the distance, and blue skies, coupled with fluffy white clouds.  They look creamy somehow, like if you were to reach up, they’d be like whipped cream in your hands.  

Keith and Shiro had spent many hours at Shiro’s grandfather’s place, baking and trying out different variations of the same recipe.  Well, Keith did the baking while Shiro watched and tried out the sweets, but he’s working hard on learning how to replicate Keith’s mastery when it comes to making delectables.  He’s making good progress, which is more than they can say about Keith and his plantcare skills.  At least Shiro’s good at it and the plants are thriving in their shop.

“I love this,” Shiro hums, walking around the room for what has to be the five hundredth time.  He stops by the little cottage that Keith had spent probably ten hours on.  He’s one for detail and it suits him.  It’s a small and cozy cottage, a warm light always on in the window, vines and flowers growing all around it.  There are figures in the field, picking flowers and placing them in their baskets by their side.  There are figures in the sky, too, where stars speckle the night on one side.  Children running through the stars, gold trailing behind them.  

“You’ve only said that like a billion times.”

“I mean it,” Shiro says breathlessly.  He does another walk around and then goes back to Keith, wrapping his arms around his waist and leaning his face into his shoulder.  “You’re amazing.  And your paper cranes are way better than mine.  I think we should get rid of mine.”

He looks up at the cranes hanging from the ceiling on thin gold chains elevated and spaced at different heights to be pleasing to the eye.  They glint in the sun as they wade over the hanging lights.  Keith and Shiro dipped some in gold paint and speckled others with gold stars.

“No...  Yours are beautiful.  And I like them together, don’t you?”

Shiro squeezes his hands as he breathes into Keith’s hair.  

It’s magical.  The whole place feels magical and golden and warm and _them_.  It’s so full of them that Keith thinks it’s a dream nearly every morning when he wakes up.  

He’s getting used to it though.  Being happy.  It’s slow progress, but he’s starting to trust it a little more.

School starts for Keith next semester.  It’s a few months away and he’s a little nervous; he’s older and he’s never gone to college, but it’s close by and he’ll be commuting.  It helps too, knowing that Shiro will be at home, waiting for him, genuinely interested and wanting to know about his day.  

Shiro has been very good about everything.  

Keith’s depression hasn’t disappeared.  He’s still on his meds, he still sees his doctors, but now he has built-in support.  The edge is gone.  He talks to Shiro about it openly and Shiro tries harder than even Keith to ease the knot in his chest and the muck in his head.  If they can’t figure it out, Shiro holds him.  And that’s enough.  That’s enough.

Keith reaches up to kiss Shiro on the cheek before twisting from his hold and walking into the back.  He’s checking through everything again, making sure everything’s set up and ready for opening day.  It’s coming quickly - next week.  He can feel the anxiety well up in his stomach.  

Shiro’s already organized all the flowers in the display cases and they’re perfection, lining the walls, climbing up the corners, soaking up the sun in the front windows, looking proud and sweet and soft.  Keith couldn't even tell you how he groups them; it doesn't seem like there's any rhyme or reason to it, but it just  _works_.  If this weren't their shop together, Keith would want to buy them all up himself.  He's not even a huge flower person normally, but under Shiro's care, the beauty is apparent.  Shiro wasn’t exaggerating when he said he has an eye for these sorts of things, it’s obvious.  Keith's in awe every time he sees the flower displays.

They have a nice big garden in the back of their house that grows to impress, spanning out a few acres.  Shiro spends hours out there, humming happily to himself as he cares for the small roots and petals of life that flourish beneath his touch.  Keith will join him often, bare toes wiggling in the dirt.  He'll sit and watch as Shiro tries to explain how he's cultivating life.  He says it all as if it's easy.  It's like a different language, but Keith loves every word of it, smiling at the sound of Shiro's melodic voice.  There's lavender growing and chamomile, just like Shiro had promised.  Lavender's all over their house now, and Shiro was right, it does seem to help.

Shiro’s grandfather had left the house for them when he had passed.  He gave Keith the bathroom, Ryou the collectible cars, and Shiro the house.  Keith got to meet him a few times and he liked him a lot.  He wasn’t scary like he had always feared.  He held Keith’s hand between his when they first met and smiled warmly up at him from the hospital bed.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” he had said, eyes welling up with tears. “I've been waiting for the day my little Takashi finally comes in standing beside the love of his life.  He always used to come home and talk about you...there's a light his eyes now that I've never seen. Thank you for making him happy. Please, take care of him.”

Keith might’ve teared up at that a little.  Just a little.  

It felt like everything was finally falling into place in his life.  

At the cafe, Keith can hear the rich purr of a car pulling up and light slings across the wall in the backroom as the door swings open.  

The bell rings sweetly and he hears Matt exclaiming loudly and Shiro’s animated laughter.  They’re excitedly going through the room as Keith opens boxes and organizes cups. 

Shiro’s head pokes around the corner.  “Hey.”

“Hi,” Keith hums, not pausing from his work.

“Matt’s here.”

“Just a sec.  I’m in the middle of counting.  I don’t want to have to do it all over -”

“Keith!”  Matt pokes his head around the corner above Shiro’s.  “How’s it going?  You did an amazing job out there.  Seriously.  You’re like a real artist or something.”

“Of course he’s a real artist,” Shiro grumbles.  Keith hears a shuffle, a thud, and an “ow!”

Keith looks up, grins.  “Thanks.  Coming to help count supplies?  I see we're already short on candy canes and we haven't even opened yet...”

Shiro coughs into his hand.

Matt laughs.  “No, I have today off and wanted to drive my new baby around, so I thought I’d come here to flaunt it and torture Shiro some more.”

“My baby,” Shiro whispers in mourning.

“You can be a real dick sometimes,” Keith sighs to Matt, pushing up off his knees to stand.  

“Hey, it’s a fair trade, right?  Shiro gets _you,_  I get his car!”

“He _gave_ it to you out of the kindness of his _heart_.”

“I know, I know, I’m eternally grateful.  Shiro walks on water and all that,”  He tacks on to the end, muttering through his teeth, “and also because he won’t be able to afford the insurance anymore.”

“That’s probably true,” Shiro says, falling into step behind Keith and rubbing his shoulders as they walk.  “I think you appreciate it more anyway.  And besides, I couldn’t think of anything good enough to give you that fit the situation.”  He leans into Keith’s ear and murmurs, “He gave me my world, after all...”

Keith leans back, smiling at him crookedly.  “You know, I hate how corny you are sometimes.  It's almost painful.”

“No, you don't,” Shiro hums. He leans in for a kiss.

Matt sighs to himself, walking out to a table and sitting in a seat to wait for them to finish.   “I’m happy for you guys,” he says when they’re decent again.  “I think our whole entire graduating year is happy for you guys.  Wait until next reunion, everyone’s going to freak.”

“Everyone already has.  I posted all those pics on Facebook.”

Keith whips around.  “Shiro.”

He laughs like a kid in trouble.  “I might’ve also changed your display pic too.”

“ _Shiro_ ,” Keith grumbles, swiping the phone out of Shiro’s pocket and typing away on it quickly.  

“Aww, come on,” Shiro whines, leaning bodily against Keith, pressing his face into his hair again.  "You said you'd change it but you never do."

“I told you I hated when people post pictures of me on their Facebook.  That’s bad enough, but then on _my Facebook_?”

“But you’re so beautiful,” Shiro fake-sobs, face still shoved into his hair.  “I just want to share you with the world.”

“Sending pictures to Matt - okay.  Allura - I’m fine with it.  And I can't stop you from posting to your own profile.  ...Even though you have hundreds of friends on here...and it’s kinda weird.  Do you actually know all these people?  And your ex.  Weird.  But leave my poor profile pictures alone.”

"I told you he'd be mad," Matt tsks from his seat, watching the scene unfold like it's an interesting drama, hands folded lightly on the table as he smiles.

Shiro sighs, “Are you really going to bring back your old display pic?  No one knows what Black Butler is anymore.”

“Shut it,” Keith hums, sliding the phone back into Shiro’s pocket once he’s satisfied.

Matt laughs from his seat, going on his phone to look.  He swipes across the screen and then pauses.  “Aww,” he says.

Shiro looks over Matt’s shoulder.  “Keith, I love it!  It's Red!  A display picture I approve of.”

It’s their dog, who is currently being babysat by Keith’s dad.  In the picture, he's rolling around on the floor with Shiro, both looking up at the camera in a battle of “who’s the cutest?”.  It’s silly, but it’s his life now and it’s his favorite picture.

Worried as he was at first, it took Keith’s dad no time at all to warm up to Shiro.  Why would it?  Shiro’s a second son to him already and Keith can tell it makes Shiro very happy to have a father-figure in his life as well.  They visit almost every day.

“Everyone’s excited for the grand opening,” Matt hums, setting his phone down.  “I’ll admit, I thought, at first, that you might be a little bit crazy when you told me about this flower shop.  But you know, looking at it now and all the effort and love you put into it...  I mean, I think it might actually work.  Like truly actually be awesome.  I've never seen anything like it before.  Even Allura said that.  Allura.  You know what a stickler she is.”

“She hasn’t even seen the painting that Keith finished,” Shiro grins, looking up at Keith and winking.  

“She’s coming for the opening, right?”

“Yep.  Did you ever hear back from Lance, Keith?”

“Yeah, he’s coming.  There’s free food for him, why wouldn’t he?”

Shiro just laughs.  

Matt gets to his feet, pocketing his phone and twirling his keys around his finger in Shiro’s face, who just raises an amused eyebrow at him.  “Gotta run.  I’m supposed to pick up Katie at the airport and I’ve just been killing time.  I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it.”

"Bye, Matt!"  Shiro chirps.  "Thanks for stopping by."

They wave, watching him drive off in Shiro's old car.  There's no regret in his eyes though as he looks over at Keith and smiles knowingly.  He reaches up and brushes his thumb softly against Keith's cheek.

Keith sighs into it.  “He’s tiring.”

Shiro laughs.  “I kept you up too late last night, didn’t I?  You get grouchy when you’re tired.”

“I didn’t mind,” Keith murmurs, reaching out, clinging to his shirt to pull him in.  He turns to rest against Shiro, nuzzling against his chest.  “I am tired though.  He kinda reminds me of Lance.”

“I can see that,” Shiro says, running his hands soothingly through Keith’s hair.  “Only I didn’t want to punch him in the face at school all the time like I did Lance.”

“You?”  Keith snorts.  “Punch someone in the face?  You’re not violent.”

“I was really jealous.   _Really jealous._   I pretended I wasn’t around you, but I surprised myself.  Remember that time in fifth grade when you handed out Valentine’s cards and you had a handmade one for Lance?  I went home and _cried_.”

Keith frowns for a moment and then he hides his face beneath his hands as he remembers.  He laughs.  “I can't believe you remember that.  I only made him one because I didn’t want to have to give him any of my Power Rangers ones and the teachers said we had to give one to _everyone_.”

Shiro blinks.  “Wait, what?”

“I know!  In hindsight, it makes zero sense.”

Shiro thinks about it for a moment and then bursts out laughing.  “God, Keith.   _So backwards_.  What's new?”

“Hey!  I gave you the black Power Ranger!  He was my favorite.  How could you not know?”

“My grandfather didn’t let us watch _Power Rangers_.”  He frowns.  “I’d still fight Lance for that Valentine anyway.  You cut out a heart and drew on it."

Keith pats his chest.  "I'll make you another better one, so let's not resort to violence, hm?"

"If it meant I’d win you in the end, I would’ve punched him in the face without a second thought.”

Keith chuckles.  “In fifth grade?  You were like a little lamb.  You would’ve gone down so hard.  Good thing you waited.”

“Yeah,” Shiro murmurs, leaning down and brushing Keith’s jaw tenderly with his thumb.  He looks around at the place they created together, golden and shining with wonder.  

He smiles.  “This is going to work.”

Keith leans his head back on his shoulder and nods.  “I think you’re right.”

He inhales, nodding to himself.  “I was so scared to make this leap, but...  We make a good team.”

Keith squeezes his hand in his and Shiro squeezes back.

“It feels right this time.  Everything does.  I had no idea life could be this content.  I think most of the reason I went off to become a doctor was to impress you.  To make myself worthy.  But now I know it’s not about that.  It’s not about money, it never has been.  Or your profession, or degree.  It’s about who you share your life with.  It’s about who’s at home to accept you when you’re coming back, grouchy and impossible from a long day at work.  It’s about the people around you.  That’s what life is.”

“I already knew that,” Keith says, shrugging.

Shiro laughs and reaches up his shirt, tickling him.  “You _did not_.”

“Okay, okay!”  Keith cries, squirming away from his fingers.  Shiro groans with loss and he sinks back, pointing at his hands in warning.  “I didn’t.  But I figured it out recently, when I was with you.”

Shiro hums, still smiling warmly.  He rocks them both from side to side, swaying together in their bliss.

He turns Keith around gently by the hips and reaches up to softly brush his finger against his lip.

“Can I?”  He asks.

Keith nods, pressing himself off the floor to reach Shiro better.

He leans in, kissing Keith gently, his soft lips like velvet.  With a sharp inhale, he leans in further, deepening the kiss, pressing his hand to the small of Keith’s back and pulling him in closer.

Keith moans quietly into Shiro’s mouth.  “Shiro,” he breaths when he pulls back.  His eyes are closed as he presses his forehead to Shiro’s.  

“Hm?”

“Thank you,” he says.  “I love you.  Thank you.”

Shiro’s brow furrows as he pulls Keith in closer.  His grip is so tight it’s almost crushing, but Keith holds him back, equally as fierce.

“I love you, Keith.  I love you forever.”

“I love you forever,” Keith whispers back.

They had both waited for so long that all these little what ifs had built up, growing into a journey that seemed to leave behind a tale of regret and sorrow.  

It’s not anymore.

The what ifs that had once plagued the both of them turned out to be just little fallen stars on their journey that led them to here.  They laugh about it now because they’ve found each other.  Maybe they were slow, maybe it took them longer than it could’ve, but it’s okay.  Everything’s fine.  They’re together now.

The moon has finally caught up to his sun.

Keith is finally home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annndddd that's the end! Thank you so so much each and every one of you for reading and all those who have left the sweetest comments. Each one adds 15% to my life force. I'm so grateful. You're all amazing. Be well.


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